./ 


>■ 


v*^ 


SITY  OF  CALIFORNI 
LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

U.C.    Library 


A  RUSSIAN  JOURNEY 


EDNA  DEAN   PROCTOR 


WLify  31Uu$tratton$ 


REVISED  EDITION,  WITH  PRELUDE 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 

($be  fitoerpiDe  Pre.9&  <ram&ri&ae 

1890 


Copyright,  1871, 1890. 
By  EDNA  DEAN  rROCTOR. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press.  Cambridge,  Mass.,V,  F.A. 
Electrotype*!  and  Printed  by  II.  O.  Houghton  &  Company. 


mo 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

Prelude vii 

St.  Petersburg 1 

St.  Isaac's  and  the  Crown  Jewels   .        .        .        .  13 

To  Moscow 25 

The  Shrines  op  Moscow 33 

moscow  beyond  the  kremlin 47 

Moscow  Bells 61 

Troitsa  Monastery b9 

The  Fair  of  Nijni 85 

Asia  at  .Nijni     .........  97 

Kazan Ill 

The  Volga,  to  Samara 125 

A  Gypsy  Encampment 141 

The  Empire  op  the  East 153 

The  Volga,  to  Kamyschin 163 

Kalmucks  and  Moravians 179 

The  Cossack  Country 195 

rostoff  and  the  lower  don 209 

The  Azoff  and  Euxine  Seas 221 

Yalta  and  the  Crimean  Tartars          ....  231 

The  Crimean  Coast  and  Alupka       .                .        .  241 


48« 


IV  CONTENTS. 

PAGI 

Baidar  Gate  and  Valley 253 

Sevastopol 261 

Odessa 269 

Over  the  Steppe  to  Kichineff 281 

KlCHINEFF   TO   BELZI 291 

The  Frontier 803 

The  Czab 313 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Marshes  of  the  North  ....       Frontispiece. 

Nicholas  Bridge  and  the  Neva         ....  6 

The  Alexander  Column 10 

St.  Isaac's  Cathedral 18 

Peasants  of  the  Province  of  St.  Petersburg  .        .  30 

Cathedral  of  the  Assumption 38 

Tower  of  John  the  Great 64 

Philaret,  late  Metropolitan  of  Moscow  and  Archi- 
mandrite of  Troitsa 74 

A  Mendicant b0 

Ivan  and  Nadia 94 

Our  Lady  of  Kazan 118 

Peasant  Cabins 128 

Gypsy  Fortune  Teller        • 148 

Ice-Boat  of  the  Volga 170 

A  Kalmuck  Encampment 186 

A  Cossack  Boy 214 

A  Young  Circassian 228 

Tartar  Boys 2:6 

Sevastopol 264 

Windmill  of  the  Grain  Region        ....  294 

Peasant  of  the  Polish  Border 306 

Alexander  II 318 


PRELUDE. 


RUSSIA. 

[1890.] 

What  !  shall  a  hundred  millions 

Be  dumb  at  the  word  of  one  ?  — 
The  light  of  their  day  be  darkened 

While  above  them  shines  the  sun  ? 
Shall  the  flower  of  the  Russian  people, 

The  tender,  lofty  souls, 
Through  exile,  torture,  madness, 

But  swell  the  martyrs'  rolls? 

Rise  in  your  ancient  grandeur, 

O  race  of  love  and  fire, 
And  flame  till  ice  and  rock  shall  melt 

In  the  blast  of  your  holy  ire! 
Till  the  very  stars  shall  fight  for  you, 

And  all  the  winds  that  blow 
Shall  swell  your  cry  for  Liberty, 

Shall  chant  your  speechless  woe. 


vm  RUSSIA. 

Let  the  sword  rest  in  its  scabbard  ! 

Your  wrongs  shall  be  the  blade 
To  cleave  the  bonds  that  have  bound  you 

And  win  the  world  to  aid. 
In  the  might  of  Slavic  manhood, 

In  the  power  of  God  on  high, 
Claim  and  defend  your  birthright  !  — 

And  the  despot's  rule  shall  die. 

1"T  is  more  than  twenty  years  since  the  journey 
was  made  of  which  these  pages  are  a  record. 
Then,  in  spite  of  fears  and  reactions,  Russia  was 
still  flushed  with  joy  and  hope  from  the  Emanci- 
pation of  the  serfs,  and  her  friends,  everywhere,  be- 
lieved a  better  day  had  dawned  for  her.  Through 
this  rosy  glow  I  looked  at  the  future  of  Czar  and 
people. 

The  Emancipation  of  the  serfs  was  a  great  and 
daring  reform,  one  which  will  keep  the  name  of 
Alexander  II.  forever  illustrious  among  the  Czars ; 
but  a  reform  so  inevitable  that  it  could  not  have 
been  long  delayed.  Yet  it  was  only  the  first  step 
towards  the  goal  of  rounded,  individual  manhood 
to  which  the  whole  human  race  is  tending.  To 
pause  there,  was  like  lingering  upon  the  chord  of 
the  seventh  while  the  ear  cries  imperiously  for  the 


RUSSIA.  ix 

octave ;  like  making  foundation  and  crypt  strong 
and  spacious,  but  never  rearing,  thereupon,  the 
noble  cathedral  with  its  crowning  spire  ;  nay,  like 
staying  the  sun  at  dawn,  with  earth  longing  for 
the  full  glory  of  his  beams. 

The  peasants  compose  by  far  the  largest  part 
of  the  population  of  Russia,  and,  with  the  officials, 
(drawn  from  the  higher  ranks,)  the  army,  and  the 
police,  make  up  the  nation.  In  order  that  this 
great  body  of  liberated  men  might  appreciate  the 
blessings  of  freedom  and  of  ownership  of  land,  and 
be  able  to  use  them,  they  needed  education,  and 
the  most  helpful  measures  which  the  combined 
wisdom  of  the  country  could  devise.  But  with 
such  limited  bounty  ;  —  their  allotments  of  land 
proving  small  in  proportion  to  the  taxes  imposed 
—  such  utterly  inadequate  provisions ;  and  with 
their  lack  of  self-reliance  and  enterprise,  due  to 
the  irresponsible,  careless  ways  of  servitude  ;  many 
have  questioned,  in  their  ignorance  and  disap- 
pointment and  helplessness,  whether  the  old  days 
were  not,  after  all,  better  than  the  new.  Eman- 
cipation freed  them  from  the  dominion  of  their 
masters ;  but  they  are  still  the  creatures  of  the 
Government,    still    almost   voiceless  in  its   coun- 


x  RUSSIA. 

cils,  still  hampered  on  every  side  by  restrictions 
and  penalties  which  nothing  but  mighty, concerted 
action  on  their  part  could  enable  them  ever  to 
throw  off.  And  when  it  is  remembered  that 
every  village  is  under  the  surveillance  of  the  po- 
lice, and  that  the  whole  force  of  the  Empire  can 
be  employed  to  search  out  offenders  and  put  down 
insurrections,  the  difficulty  of  such  action,  how- 
ever wisely  and  justly  attempted,  will  be  under- 
stood. But  in  this  age,  when  liberty  is  in  the 
air,  and  the  problem  of  government  by  the  peo- 
ple and  for  the  people  has  been  triumphantly 
solved,  it  will  be  as  impossible  for  the  great  Rus- 
sian nation  to  be  long  held  in  such  bondage,  as  it 
would  be  to  keep  the  majestic  current  of  the  Volga 
prisoned  in  ice,  and  the  trees  upon  its  banks  bare 
of  leaves,  when  winds  blow  soft  from  the  south 
and  the  sun  shines  on  forest  and  stream  with  the 
warmth  and  splendor  of  June. 

Of  all  Aryan  races,  the  Russian  Slavs,  with  their 
frankness,  their  simplicity,  their  gentle  endurance, 
and  yet  their  force,  their  imagination,  their  quick, 
intense  sympathy,  their  unbounded  power  of  losing 
themselves  in  a  feeling,  an  idea  ;  their  capacity 
for  self-sacrifice,  their  pliancy,  their   mysticism, 


RUSSIA.  xi 

their  ardent  faith, — seem  to  possess  most  of  what 
we  may  fancy  were  the  characteristics  of  the 
primitive  people  in  the  highlands  of  Asia.  In- 
deed, to  their  patriarchal  bias,  their  tendency  to 
regard  themselves  as  children  and  the  Czar  as 
a  father  who  wishes  them  nothing  but  good,  must 
in  a  great  measure  be  ascribed  their  long  submis- 
sion to  despotic  rule ;  for,  as  between  man  and 
man,  democracy  and  a  sense  of  brotherhood  are 
strong  in  their  blood.  No  just  estimate  of  them 
can  be  made  without  considering  that,  since  the 
dawn  of  their  history,  they  have  been  the  bulwark 
of  Europe  against  Asia.  While  the  Western  na- 
tions were  free  to  devote  themselves  to  their  own 
affairs,  or  to  wars  with  their  equally  civilized 
neighbors,  Russia  was  invaded  by  hordes  of  fierce 
Pagan  and  Mohammedan  Mongols  and  Tartars, 
led  now  and  again  by  some  of  the  ablest  generals 
and  administrators  the  world  has  known ;  her 
towns  pillaged  and  burned,  her  fields  wasted,  her 
inhabitants  slaughtered,  or  driven  into  slavery 
more  cruel  than  death.  For  centuries  she  was 
the  vassal  of  the  Khans  ;  her  Princes  humble  ser- 
vitors at  Tartar  camp  and  court,  —  obliged  to 
journey  even  as  far  as  the  Amoor  to  pay  tribute 


xii  RUSSIA. 

and  have  the  right  to  their  principalities  con- 
firmed. The  Crescent  beneath  the  Cross,  on  the 
domes  of  Russian  churches  and  monasteries,  is 
to-day  a  conspicuous  memento  of  the  dreadful 
struggle  and  the  final  victory. 

This  savage  strife,  this  long  oppression  by  such 
hated  foes,  could  not  fail  to  deeply  affect  the  na- 
tional character,  —  to  blend  ferocity  with  force, 
cunning  and  dissimulation  with  wisdom  and  pru- 
dence, the  servile  ways  of  the  Asiatic  with  the 
simple  frankness  of  the  Slav.  And  when  the 
Khans  were  at  last  overthrown,  and  the  Ruesian 
states  consolidated  into  an  empire,  the  Czars 
copied  this  despotic  rule,  and  made  the  people 
mere  instruments  of  their  will.  But,  for  enlight- 
ened men,  the  day  of  Khans  and  autocrats  has 
passed,  never  to  return.  To  the  fact  that  the 
Emperor  will  not  see  this,  and  give  the  people 
their  proper  share  in  the  government,  thus  secur- 
ing more  justice  and  good  faith  and  honesty  in 
every  branch  of  the  administration,  the  terrible 
events  of  recent  years  are  due.  And  utterly  mis- 
guided and  insane  as  some  of  the  defenders  of 
liberty  have  been,  their  patriotic  devotion,  their 
heroic  deaths,  will  not  be  in  vain.     The  whole  in- 


RUSSIA.  xin 

telligent  world  is  hastening  to  be  free.  The  ages 
of  the  future  belong  everywhere  to  the  people ; 
and  in  Russia,  this  bitter  conflict,  however  pro- 
tracted, can  only  end  in  their  triumph. 

With  the  approach  of  summer,  the  woods  and 
steppes  of  Russia  burst  into  sudden  green  and 
beauty.  The  wind  sings  through  the  firs,  and 
sways  the  young  leaves  of  the  birches  and  lindens, 
wafting  their  delicate  perfume  to  the  fields.  The 
hum  of  bees  fills  the  air.  The  cooing  of  doves 
is  heard  in  the  hamlets.  The  grassy  sea  of 
the  steppes  is  bright  with  flowers,  —  scarlet  pop- 
pies, yellow  broom,  gay  tulips,  brilliant  cockles, 
purple  larkspur  —  countless  blooms  that  give  their 
rich  tints  to  the  day,  and  exhale  their  fragrance 
with  the  evening  dews;  while  the  lark,  soaring 
from  the  grass,  and  the  nightingale  warbling  in 
the  thicket,  thrill  dawn  and  moonlight  with  their 
delicious  melody.  The  great  plains  bask  in  the 
sun,  and  the  wind,  that  has  stolen  from  the  Altai 
and  the  Oural,  sways  the  green  expanse  in  waves 
of  light  and  shade,  to  the  far  horizon.  So  soft ! 
so  fair !  but,  alas,  so  fleeting !  Soon  the  flow- 
ers wither ;  the  grass  grows  brown  and  sere. 
Clouds  obscure  the  sun  ;  mists  veil  the  distance ; 


xiv  RUSSIA. 

the  days  rise  chill ;  and  while  song  and  the  sweet 
breath  of  summer  seem  hardly  to  have  left  the 
air,  fierce  blasts  sweep  down  from  the  Pole,  cov- 
ering the  once  green  and  glowing  sea  with  a  pall 
of  snow ;  and  from  the  bare  and  gloomy  thickets 
come  the  rustling  of  the  dead  leaves,  the  creak- 
ing of  the  branches,  and  anon  the  howling  of  the 
wolves  as  they  rage  in  their  hunger,  and  gather 
to  pursue  and  seize  the  passing  traveler.  The 
Russian  nature,  with  favorable  conditions,  is  like 
forest  and  steppe  in  summer,  full  of  peace  and 
grace  and  charm  ;  swayed  by  sympathy  and  feel- 
ing, as  grass  and  bough  by  the  passing  breeze ; 
inclined  to  believe  and  love  and  trust,  even  as 
the  steppe  looks  up  confidingly,  and  reflects  the 
smile  or  the  sadness  of  the  sky.  But  it  has  also 
the  strength  and  terror  of  steppe  and  forest ;  and 
under  the  winter  of  injustice  and  tyranny  and 
cruelty,  its  impulses,  its  energies,  its  affections, 
become  pitiless  blasts  and  devouring  wolves. 

God  grant  that  a  radical  change  may  come  in 
the  affairs  of  this  great  nation,  —  come  quietly, 
justly,  nobly;  that  the  rights  of  the  long-suffering 
people  may  be  recognized ;  and  that  unbearable 
wrongs,  and   desperate  assassinations,  and  Sibe- 


RUSSIA.  xv 

rian  horrors  such  as  Mr.  Kennan  has  so  vividly- 
portrayed,  may  no  longer  shock  the  world  !  And 
when  it  is  Free  Russia ;  when,  under  wise  and 
liberal  rule,  the  varied  populations  of  this  huge 
domain  —  one  sixth  of  the  earth's  surface  —  can 
develop  fully  and  naturally  ;  when  the  passionate 
patriotism,  the  philosophy,  the  poetry,  the  wit  of 
the  people,  are  no  longer  repressed  or  exiled  or 
hidden  in  dungeons ;  when  the  country's  resources 
are  more  honestly  applied  for  its  advantage  ;  when 
education  is  open  to  all ;  —  what  marvels  may  we 
not  hope  for,  what  inventive  genius,  what  prac- 
tical skill,  what  scientific  discovery,  what  music, 
what  art,  what  literature,  in  these  mingled  races 
dowered  with  the  gifts  of  Europe  and  Asia,  — 
unique  capacities  which  as  yet  they  have  hardly 
begun  to  use  ! 

There  is  an  old  and  beautiful  belief  in  Russia 
that  "  Mother  Earth  "  knows  the  secrets  of  the 
future,  and  that,  if  one  in  silence  lays  his  ear 
reverently  to  the  ground  and  listens,  the  events 
of  clays  to  come  will  be  revealed.  O  Russian 
Earth  !  art  thou  not  weary  of  bringing  forth 
children  for  destruction  and  woe,  and  for  such 
despair  that  they  yearn  to  be  folded  again  in  thine 


xvi  RUSSIA. 

embrace  ?  Make  thou  a  compact  with  the  Celes- 
tial Powers;  and  when  thy  sons  and  daughters 
listen  at  thy  breast,  let  them  no  longer  hear  the 
wails  borne  on  Siberian  winds,  the  moans  from 
prison  cells,  the  lamentations,  the  murmurs,  the 
awful  threats,  of  an  oppressed  and  outraged  peo- 
ple, but  gladden  their  hearts  with  omens  of  joy, 
—  with  songs  and  thanksgivings,  and  the  inspiring 
words  of  Liberty  and  Peace ! 


ST.  PETERSBURG. 


ST.  PETERSBURG. 


See!    From  the  Finland  marshes  there 
'Tis  grand  St.  Isaac's  rears  in  air, 

Column  on  column,  that  shining  dome  ! 
And,  just  beyond  its  glorious  swell, 
'Tis  the  slender  spire  of  the  Citadel 
Where  great  Czar  Peter  slumbers  well 

All  by  the  Neva's  flood  and  foam, — 
That  lifts  its  cross  till  the  golden  bars 
Gleam  and  burn  with  the  midnight  stars ! 

rpHE  gray  waste  of  the  Baltic  ;  a  cold,  cloudy 
sky  and  a  wild  wind  blowing  from  the  east.  In 
the  distance  a  colorless  line,  the  flat,  dreary  shore, 
to  which  even  the  poor  picturesqueness  of  Finland 
is  denied,  and  where  a  few  pale  birches  and  sickly 
pines  are  all  that  unaided  summer  can  coax  from 
the  wet  and  barren  soil.  Yet  out  of  this  bleak 
morass  there  began  to  rise  spires  and  domes  and 
columns,  half  revealed  in  the  shifting  light,  and 
then,  as  the  sun  struggled  through  the  clouds,  mul« 


4  ST.  PETERSBURG. 

tiplying  and  shining  resplendent  like  an  enchanted 
city  evoked  from  the  gloom  of  the  wave.  Was  it 
Venice,  fair  and  fascinating  on  the  bosom  of  the 
Adriatic  ?  Was  it  Amsterdam,  solid  and  secure  by 
the  Zuyder  Zee  ? 

The  wonder  grew.  Tall  ships  and  laden  boats 
thronged  about  us  ;  great  rows  of  stately  houses 
lifted  themselves  to  view  ;  crowded  streets  opened 
on  every  hand  ;  and  while  we  were  yet  bewildered 
with  this  mingled  poverty  of  nature  and  splendor 
of  art,  the  steamer  rounded  into  her  dock  upon  the 
Neva,  and  amid  drays  and  droskies  and  a  noisy 
rabble  of  coachmen  and  porters,  —  some  clad  in 
sheep-skins,  and  all  in  loose,  long  wrappings,  —  we 
gained  the  wharf  and  knew  that  we  were  in  the 
capital  of  the  Czars  I 


What  would  those  earliest  founders,  the  impas- 
sioned, beauty-loving  race,  that,  wandering  west- 
ward from  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  saw  the 
plain  of  Damascus  glowing  in  the  Syrian  sun,  and 
pitched  their  tents  upon  its  paradise  of  green,  — 
what  would  they  have  said  to  the  site  of  the  City 
Qf  the  North  ?  —  a  swamp,  a  quaking  bog,  scarcely 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  6 

above  the  level  of  the  Baltic,  almost  within  the 
Arctic  Circle,  frozen  and  snow-covered  for  five 
months  of  the  year,  and  subject,  with  the  coming 
on  of  spring,  to  feai*ful  inundations.  No  marvel 
is  it  that  with  bitter  murmurings  and  regrets  the 
first  inhabitants  took  up  their  forced  abode  in  its 
streets  still  reeking  with  marshy  damps,  and  trem- 
bling beneath  the  unusual  weight  imposed  upon  the 
oozy  soil. 

What  is  St.  Petersburg  to-day?  A  city  of  more 
than  half  a  million  people  ;  covering  thirty  square 
miles ;  with  broad,  regular  streets  and  immense 
squares  lined  with  lofty  buildings  ;  the  most  signal 
triumph  of  human  will  over  material  obstacles  that 
the  later  centuries  have  shown.  Compared  with  the 
cities  farther  south,  Copenhagen,  Stockholm,  and 
Christiania  seem  like  overgrown  villages.  St.  Pe- 
tersburg  is  peer  of  the  proudest  —  the  Paris  of  the 
Baltic — an  imperial  Muscovite  Berlin. 

Yet  it  overwhelms  rather  than  delights  you. 
It  is  vast ;  it  is  amazing ;  but  it  is  the  domain  of 
the  Titans  rather  than  of  the  Graces,  and  you  look 
in  vain  for  the  charming  and  the  picturesque.  St. 
Isaac's  Place  and  the  open  area  in  front  of  the 
Winter  Palace  need  a  grand  marshaling  of  troops 


6  ST.  PETERSBURG. 

or  a  holiday  convocation  of  citizens  to  fill  the  void; 
and  the  finest  street,  the  Nevski  Prospekt,  begin- 
ning at  the  Isaac  Cathedral  and  terminating  three 
miles  away  at  the  Monastery  of  Alexander  Nevski, 
calls  for  an  unending  procession  to  enliven  its  cen- 
tre and  unite  its  northern  and  southern  borders  in 
one.  For  convenience  on  ceremonial  occasions  and 
for  sanitary  purposes  this  is  well ;  but  for  beauty 
give  me  rather  Genoa  with  its  narrow,  winding, 
climbing  streets,  where  you  may  shake  hands  with 
your  neighbor  at  the  opposite  window  and  see  above 
a  line  of  gleaming  blue  which  is  the  sky  —  even  the 
covered,  crowded  ways  of  Cairo,  where  balcony  and 
lattice  break  the  formal  lines,  and  the  varying  pan- 
orama below  offers  perpetual  entertainment  to  the 
stranger. 

As  to  the  architecture  of  the  city,  its  churches 
and  religious  establishments  have  all  that  is  Rus- 
sian. The  rest  of  the  buildings  are  mainly  con- 
structed on  classic  models,  and  though  often  impos- 
ing from  their  colossal  size  and  lavish  decorations, 
yet  appear  incongruous  under  that  leaden  sky. 
The  fine,  smooth  marbles  of  the  Mediterranean  pen- 
insula are  fit  for  fashioning  into  graceful  temples 
and  lovely,  rounded  forms  ;  and  nude  and  slightly 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  7 

draped  figures  upholding  roof  and  dome  are  natural 
and  pleasing  where  the  landscape  is  steeped  in  the 
warmth  and  splendor  of  a  tropic  sun  ;  but  in  this 
cold  Russia  why  did  they  not  rear  of  their  dark 
Finland  granite  bold,  irregular  piles  that  would  rise 
majestic  from  the  marshy  plains,  and  mould  as 
caryatides  and  ornamental  groups,  Muscovites  in 
their  long  sheep-skin  coats,  or  Tartars  clad  in  As- 
trakhan caps  and  belted  caftans,  or  Samoiedes  or 
Laplanders  enveloped  in  furs?  Every  land  for  its 
own  !  If  the  architecture  of  St.  Petersburg  were 
thus  individual  and  appropriate,  it  would  be  as  at- 
tractive as  that  of  Athens  or  Rome. 

From  the  gallery  of  the  dome  of  St.  Isaac's  Ca- 
thedral an  excellent  view  is  obtained  of  the  city. 
About  you  it  lies  upon  the  dead  level  which,  to  the 
north,  loses  itself  in  the  Baltic  and  the  swamps  of 
Finland ;  and,  to  the  south,  in  the  great  plain 
stretching  with  slight  interruption  to  the  Crimea. 
The  uniformity  of  regular  streets  is  relieved  by  the 
river  and  the  canals  ;  by  the  trees  which  care  has 
made  to  flourish  in  the  unwonted  soil ;  by  the  pub- 
lic monuments  ;  by  the  tall. fire-towers  —  conspicu- 
ous objects  in  every  Russian  city,  with  watchmen 
ready,  day  and  night,  to  give  the  proper  signals  in 


8  ST.  PETERSBURG. 

case  of  an  alarm ;  and,  most  of  all,  by  the  golden 
and  azure  domes  of  the  many  churches  and  monas- 
teries. The  Neva,  curbed  by  granite  quays,  rolls 
its  clear,  strong  tide  through  the  city  from  Lake 
Ladoga  to  the  Gulf;  and  as  you  mark  how  sea  and 
river  dominate  over  the  plain,  you  wonder  at  the 
magnificent  boldness  that  planted  the  capital  where 
it  must  perpetually  defy  wind  and  wave. 

That  slender  gilded  spire  piercing  the  sky  like  a 
needle,  and  surmounted  by  an  angel  upholding  the 
cross  at  a  height  of  nearly  four  hundred  feet  above 
the  earth,  rises  from  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Peter  and 
St.  Paul,  for  the  last  century  and  a  half  the  mau- 
soleum of  the  royal  family.  Their  white  marble 
tombs,  beginning  with  that  of  Peter  the  Great,  are 
built  up  on  the  floor  of  the  church,  with  a  gilt  cross 
resting  upon  the  upper  slab  and  an  inscription  traced 
upon  the  end ;  alike,  save  that  on  the  corners  of 
those  of  the  sovereigns  is  blazoned  the  Imperial 
eagle  —  the  double-headed  Byzantine  eagle  brought 
to  Moscow  by  Sophia,  the  Greek  bride  of  Ivan  the 
Great,  and  adopted  by  him  as  the  emblem  of  Russia. 
The  latest  buried  here  was  the  eldest  son  and  heir 
of  the  present  Emperor,  the  Grand  Duke  Nicholas 
—  the  idol  of  his  family  and  of  the  nation,  and  the 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  9 

betrothed  of  the  Princess  Dagmar.  Alas  for  earthly 
joy  and  glory !  Death  spoke  to  the  heir  of  all  the 
Russias  as  to  the  meanest  peasant  of  the  realm  ; 
and  neither  the  soft  clime  of  Italy,  nor  maiden's 
tender  love,  nor  parent's  yearning,  nor  an  empire's 
devotion  could  avail ;  but,  at  the  word,  he  must  depart 
to  that  sphere  where  the  person  of  kings  is  unre- 
garded, and  leave  to  his  brother  both  bride  and 
dominion  !  The  walls  of  this  cathedral  are  covered 
with  banners  and  keys  of  conquered  armies  and 
cities,  some  of  them  lying  even  upon  the  tombs  of 
the  victors ;  and  flying  echoes  from  martial  fields 
mingle  with  the  prayers  the  priests  intone  for  the 
repose  of  the  dead. 

The  conspicuous  building  a  little  up  the  Nevski 
Prospekt  is  the  cathedral  of  Our  Lady  of  Kazan, 
named  in  honor  of  an  image  of  the  Virgin  found 
unharmed  among  the  ashes  of  a  conflagration  in 
the  old  Tartar  city  of  Kazan,  on  the  Volga,  and 
now  set  with  gems  of  fabulous  value,  and  placed  in 
the  screen  of  this  church,  while  above  it  the  name 
of  God  is  traced  with  similar  precious  stones.  The 
screen  itself —  the  partition  between  the  nave  and 
the  altar  —  is  of  silver  plundered  from  the  churches 
of  Moscow  by  the  French,  and  retaken   by  Cos* 


10  ST.  PETERSBURG. 

sacks  to  be  here  consecrated  anew.  This  church 
is  St.  Petersburg's  offering  for  the  defeat  of  Na- 
poleon, and  to  it  the  Imperial  family  repair  for 
special  thanksgivings.  Here  the  grand  proces- 
sion halted  at  the  entry  of  the  Princess  Dagmar, 
and  while  the  crowd  was  hushed,  and  the  impatient 
horses  pawed  the  ground,  the  royal  party  entered, 
and  a  service  of  gratitude  was  performed  for  her 
arrival.  Here,  five  years  ago,  came  the  Emperor, 
first  alone  and  afterwards  with  his  family,  to  give 
thanks  for  his  escape  from  death  at  the  hands  of 
the  assassin,  Karokozoff. 

At  the  end  of  the  long  avenue,  that  striking  as- 
semblage  of  domes  and  towers,  is  the  third  holiest 
shrine  in  Russia  —  the  Monastery  of  St.  Alexan- 
der Nevski,  founded  by  Peter  the  Great.  Alex- 
ander was  a  Prince  of  the  race  of  Rurik,  and  his 
title,  Nevski,  comes  from  the  battle  he  won  on  the 
banks  of  the  Neva  over  the  Swedes.  The  present 
Emperor  bears  his  name,  and  is  supposed  to  be 
under  his  special  care  and  protection,  as  each 
Russian  is  under  that  of  the  saint  for  whom  he  is 
called.  In  this  monastery  lies  the  canonized  prince 
for  Russia's  adoration,  encased  in  solid  silver,  with 
Bilver  angels  hovering  about  him  blowing  trumpets 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  11 

of  fame.  Much  wealth  in  the  way  of  jewels  and 
rare  manuscripts  is  gathered  here,  and  so  holy  is 
the  place  considered,  that,  in  recompense  for  the 
payment  of  a  large  sum  to  the  monastery,  many  of 
the  highest  families  have  their  burial-places  within 
its  walls. 

Fronting  the  swift  Neva,  that  huge  pile  half  a 
mile  in  length  with  the  handsome  central  spire,  is 
the  Admiralty,  in  which  are  the  naval  offices  and 
schools.  Beyond  is  the  Winter  Palace,  the  most 
spacious  and  splendid  of  the  royal  residences  of 
Europe.  That  column  in  front  is  the  Column  of 
Alexander  I.,  the  largest  monolith  in  the  world  ; 
yet  in  the  vast  square  its  grandeur  is  lost,  and  you 
must  stand  beneath  it  in  order  to  appreciate  its 
size.  Rows  upon  rows  of  piles  were  driven  into 
the  ground  for  its  foundation,  and  Turkish  cannon 
were  melted  down  to  form  the  capital  and  the 
ornaments  for  its  base.  But  the  frost  deals  hardly 
with  its  Finland  granite,  and  each  winter  cracks 
and  cleavages  are  made  which  cement  and  patches 
carefully  repair.  Everywhere  groups  and  lines  of 
birch  and  linden  trees  break  the  monotony,  and, 
suggesting  a  firm  soil,  make  you  forget  the  bottom- 
less bog  which   their  deep  roots  penetrate  ;  while 


12  ST.  PETERSBURG. 

far  away  are  the  wide  sea  and  the  wider  plain  — 
the  sea  lit  at  Tornea  by  the  midnight  sun,  and  the 
plain  washed  on  its  southern  verge  by  the  warm 
waters  of  the  Caspian. 


ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS. 


ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS. 


Eye  of  a  god  was  this  blazing  stone, 

Beyond  the  snows  of  the  Himalaya ; 
These  dazzling  stars  might  have  lit  the  zone 

Of  the  Queen  of  Jove  or  the  Grace,  Aglaia  ; 
And  the  rubies  are  such  as  the  Burman  king 
Sends  his  elephants  white  to  bring, 
With  a  troop  of  soldiers  and  high  grandees 
Greeting  the  finder,  on  bended  knees. 
Here's  an  emerald  rare  as  the  rose  of  pride 
Cortez  gave  his  Castilian  bride, 
And  lustrous-green  as  the  Indian  gem 
Charlemagne  wore  in  his  diadem ; 
And  pearls  hard-won  by  the  Ceylonese 
From  the  silent  depths  of  the  tropic  seas, 
While  the  conjuror  muttered  his  spells  ashore 
Till  the  diver's  toils  for  the  day  were  o'er; 
And  crystals,  amber  and  amethyst, 

That  only  the  Oural  caves  could  harden  — 
Bright  as  blossoms  the  sun  has  kissed 

In  the  fairy  plots  of  a  palace  garden. 

"^"EVER  do  I  think  of  St.  Petersburg  without 
recalling  St.  Isaac's  and  the  Crown  Jewels. 


16       ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS. 

St.  Isaac's  is  the  grandest  church  in  Russia,  and 
in  all  northern  Europe;  and  if  its  magnificence 
of  bronze  and  rose-brown  granite  had  been  fashioned 
into  a  Gothic  instead  of  an  Italian  pile,  it  might, 
perhaps,  have  been  the  grandest  in  the  world.  The 
spot  where  it  stands  in  the  great  square  near  the 
river  was,  from  the  founding  of  the  city,  designed 
for  the  site  of  the  finest  ecclesiastical  structure. 
The  present  edifice  was  begun  by  Alexander  I. 
and  completed  and  dedicated  with  all  the  splendor 
of  the  Greek  ceremonial  a  few  years  after  Alexan- 
der II.  came  to  the  throne.  A  million  dollars  were 
expended  in  sinking  piles  for  its  foundation,  and 
untold  sums  have  been  lavished  upon  the  cathe- 
dral itself.  Built  of  Finland  granite,  in  the  usual 
Russian  form  of  a  Greek  cross,  at  each  of  its 
four  sides  you  ascend  by  three  flights  of  massive 
steps  —  each  flight  cut  from  a  single  stone  —  to  the 
four  noble  entrances,  the  pillars  of  whose  porticoes 
are  monoliths  larger  than  those  of  the  Roman  Pan- 
theon, and  akin  to  the  columns  hewn  by  genu  for 
the  Syrian  Temple  of  the  Sun.  The  bases  and 
Corinthian  capitals  of  these  columns  are  of  bronze. 
Of  bronze,  also,  are  the  groups  illustrative  of  Scrip- 
ture history  and  commemorative  of  apostles,  saints, 


ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS.      17 

and  martyrs,  filling  the  pediments  and  ornamenting 
facade  and  roof,  in  rich  harmony  with  the  sombre 
back-ground  ;  while  the  great  Byzantine  dome,  en- 
circled by  smaller  domes  at  the  angles  of  the  roof 
and  supported  by  thirty  granite  pillars,  lifts  itself 
above  the  mass,  overlaid  with  gold  and  surmounted 
by  a  golden  cross,  which,  in  fair  weather,  to  those 
who  miles  away  sail  the  sea  or  journey  across  the 
inland  plains,  shines  like  an  unfading  star.  Within, 
all  is  gorgeous  gloom.  Perpetual  twilight  reigns 
under  the  lofty  vault ;  and  the  lamps  burning  night 
and  day  before  the  sacred  pictures  help  to  interpret 
the  wealth  of  mosaics  and  marbles  and  the  splendor 
of  the  tall  columns  of  malachite  and  lapis  lazuli  up- 
holding the  ikonastas  interposed  before  the  inmost 
shrine  —  their  mingled  tints  of  green  and  blue  hav- 
ing the  weird  effect  of  an  ice-cavern  in  the  Alps  or 
a  grotto  under  the  wave.  The  shrine  itself  is  in- 
closed in  a  marvelous  miniature  temple  of  these 
precious  stones,  adorned  with  gold  ;  while  every- 
where jasper  and  porphyry,  and  whatever  rare  and 
beautiful  materials  Russian  quarries  can  furnish, 
are  wrought  into  ceiling  and  floor.  Artists  may 
point  to  its  over-decoration ;  architects  may  com- 
plain of  the  space  and  iron  wasted  in  supporting  the 


18      ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS. 

dome  ;  but  in  spite  of  critics  and  defects  it  must 
remain  one  of  the  superb  buildings  of  the  world. 

With  reverent  faces  the  fair-haired,  blue-eyed 
Russians  are  continually  entering  for  their  devo- 
tions. Purchasing  a  small  wax  candle  from  a  table 
near  the  door,  and  advancing  to  one  of  the  shrines, 
with  prostrations  and  signs  of  the  cross,  they  light 
the  taper  at  the  sacred  lamp  and  place  it  in  the 
silver  stand  pierced  with  holes  ;  then,  kissing  the 
pavement,  say  a  short  prayer  and  retire,  still  look- 
ing towards  the  altar ;  while  without,  those  who  pass 
within  the  shadow  of  the  dome,  cross  themselves 
and  utter  a  pious  ejaculation. 

Magnificent  Temple  of  the  North  is  St.  Isaac's. 
Yet  with  all  its  richness  it  is  a  saddening  pile,  dim 
and  chill  even  in  a  summer  noon,  and  fitted  to  in- 
spire fear  and  awe  rather  than  hope  and  love.  God 
would  speak  to  me  more  cheeringly  on  the  broad 
steppe,  beneath  the  open  sky,  with  the  wild  east 
wind  for  anthem,  than  within  these  walls,  massive 
as  the  Pyramids,  and  echoing  chant  and  prayer  of 
priest  and  devotee. 

Whoever  delights  in  jewels  should  seek  admis- 
sion to  the  Winter  Palace.     There,  in  a  large  room 


ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS.      19 

on  the  second  floor,  guarded  night  and  day  by  offi- 
cers of  the  household,  are  preserved  the  glittering 
treasures  of  the  empire.  Most  noticeable  among 
them  is  the  great  OrlofF  diamond,  surmounting  the 
sceptre,  the  largest  of  the  crown  diamonds  of  Eu- 
rope, and  the  gift  of  the  politic,  elegant,  extrava- 
gant Count  Orloff  to  the  Empress  Catherine  II. 
Like  the  Koh-i-noor,  it  is  one  of  the  royal  jewels  of 
the  East  which,  through  misfortune  and  robbery, 
have  passed  into  Europe.  The  English  stone  has 
been  made  into  a  brilliant,  losing  thereby  nearly 
half  its  weight ;  the  Orloff  is  rose-cut,  as  it  came 
from  India.  Its  size  and  light  suit  it  to  the  sceptre 
of  a  realm  like  this,  and  until  the  Rajah  of  Mattam 
or  some  other  Oriental  monarch  loses  his  state  and 
his  possessions  with  the  advance  of  Western  civili- 
zation, it  will  doubtless  retain  its  proud  preeminence. 
Yet  for  mere  beauty  I  would  choose  rather  the  ex- 
quisite diamond  called  the  Polar  Star;  or  that  lesser 
rose-tinted  stone  bought  by  the  Emperor  Paul  for  a 
hundred  thousand  rubles  ;  nay,  —  since  selection 
»nd  fancy  are  so  easy  here,  —  I  would  even  prefer 
that  mystic  jewel,  the  Shah,  gift  of  Persia,  with 
a  Persian  inscription  upon  its  side  ! 

The  Imperial    crown    is    a    dome    of    diamonds 


20      ST.  ISAACS  AND  THE   CROWN  JEWELS. 

bound  with  pearls,  its  whiteness  relieved  by  the 
red  of  an  immense  ruby  which  burns  upon  its  top 
and  supports  a  cross  composed  of  five  diamonds  of 
wondrous  brilliancy.  The  golden  globe  upbears  a 
large  sapphire  shining  with  a  light  steady  and  ce- 
rulean as  the  heaven  of  the  Mediterranean,  while 
above  it  a  limpid  diamond  rests  upon  the  azure  like 
a  white  cloud  upon  the  sky.  The  coronet  of  the 
Empress  is  made  altogether  of  diamonds  of  equal 
size  and  lustre  —  a  diadem  so  dainty  and  dazzling 
that  the  most  republican  of  women  might  be  for- 
given for  being  for  a  moment  fascinated  by  a  crown. 
Besides  these  most  noticeable  things  there  is  a 
long  line  of  cases  filled  with  jewels  wrought  into 
necklaces  and  bracelets  and  brooches  and  combs  ; 
into  buttons  and  buckles  and  bows  and  rosettes ;  into 
girdles  and  plumes  and  fans  and  stars  and  eagles 
and  orders ;  until  the  very  profusion  makes  them 
seem  common,  and  you  become  critical  of  gems  as 
if  they  were  but  shells  on  the  sea-shore,  renewed 
with  every  tide.  For  centuries  Russia  has  drawn 
upon  the  hoarded  treasures  of  Turkey  and  Persia 
and  India  —  region  of  jewels  and  of  races  that 
delight  to  wear  them  ;  and  now  the  mines  of  Si- 
beria have  come  to  swell  her  stores.     Nothing  can 


ST.  ISAACS  AND  THE   CROWN  JEWELS.       21 

be  more  beautiful  than  some  of  the  Siberian  crys- 
tals here  with  their  delicate  tints,  —  green,  rose, 
violet  —  for  the  setting  of  which  the  clearest  dia- 
monds have  not  been  thought  too  costly. 

Standing  in  this  regal  room  you  cease  to  wonder 
at  the  world's  estimate  of  precious  stones,  and  know 
why  St.  John  fashioned  of  their  splendors  the  walls 
and  gates  of  the  New  Jerusalem.  The  dew-drop 
vanishes  with  the  sun  ;  the  rose,  the  pansy,  and  the 
lily  droop  and  fall ;  clouds  obscure  the  serenest  blue ; 
and  it  is  only  in  moments  of  propitious  light  and  air 
that  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  rare  green  of  the 
sea ;  but  the  diamond,  the  ruby,  the  amethyst,  the 
pearl,  the  topaz,  the  sapphire,  the  emerald,  keep 
their  charms  imperishable,  and  gleam  in  changeless 
beauty  beyond  the  reach  of  time. 

The  School  of  Mines  displays  a  collection  of 
minerals  and  stones  only  less  valuable  and  beautiful 
than  the  crown  jewels  ;  and  these,  with  the  great 
vases  and  urns  of  malachite  and  porphyry  and 
jasper,  classic  in  shape  and  faultless  in  finish,  which 
adorn  palace  and  hall,  show  Russia's  wealth  beneath 
the  soil  and  the  excellence  of  her  lapidaries.  The 
Academy  of  Sciences  harbors  the  skeleton  of  the 


22      ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS. 

huge  mammoth  found  seventy  years  ago  imbedded 
in  an  ice  bank  of  the  Lena,  with  its  flesh  so  well 
preserved  that  bears  and  wolves  came  to  feed  upon 
it  when  the  breaking  of  the  cliff  exposed  it  to  view. 
And  on  every  side  is  some  institution  which  impe- 
rial power  lias  dedicated  to  letters,  or  science,  or 
art,  and  where  you  may  while  away  a  morning, 
oblivious  of  the  world  without.  The  old  palace  of 
the  Hermitage  is  converted  into  an  Art  Museum 
and  its  galleries  are  adorned  with  some  of  the  best 
pictures  of  every  land,  and  with  the  marvels  of  an- 
cient and  modern  sculpture.  Rivaling  these  in 
interest  are  the  antiquities  from  the  Greek  colonies 
on  the  northern  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  ;  vases 
and  personal  ornaments  of  exquisite  workmanship, 
buried  in  tombs,  and  now,  after  two  thousand  years, 
brought  to  the  light  of  day.  One  graceful  painted 
vase  bears  the  inscription,  "  Enrion  has  made  it." 
Who  was  Enrion,  the  skillful  Greek,  charmed  with 
his  work  and  calling  to  us  thus,  out  of  the  silence 
of  centuries,  to  assure  him  of  immortality  ?  These 
noble  collections  are  grandly  housed,  but  the 
fine  tracery  of  Grecian  art  and  the  impassioned 
creations  of  the  great  masters  of  Italy  and  Spain 
seem  alien  in  this  northern  zone,  and  I  fancied  the 


ST.  ISAAC'S  AND  THE  CROWN  JEWELS.      23 

rapt  and  glowing  Madonnas  and  the  sunny  land- 
scapes would  gradually  fade  and  dim  till  they  be- 
came pallid  and  misty  as  the  light  that  fell  through 
the  lofty  windows. 

An  imposing  and  yet  a  mournful  summer  city  is 
St.  Petersburg.  Even  when  the  sky  is  clear,  the 
sun's  rays  are  pale  and  subdued  like  those  of  late 
afternoon  in  our  November ;  and  though  in  its 
streets  we  saw  peasants  in  their  peculiar  attire,  and 
swift-driven  droskies,  and  gray-coated  soldiers,  and 
long-robed  priests,  and  heard  on  every  side  the  rich 
Slavonic  tongue  ;  yet,  remembering  the  saying  of 
the  Emperor  Nicholas,  "  St.  Petersburg  is  Russian, 
but  it  is  not  Russia,"  without  regret  we  bid  fare- 
well to  its  splendors,  and  looked  eagerly  forward 
to  Moscow. 


TO  MOSCOW. 


TO   MOSCOW. 


Across  the  steppe  we  journeyed, 

The  brown,  fir-darkened  plain 
That  rolls  to  east  and  rolls  to  west, 

Broad  as  the  billowy  main, 
When  lo  1  a  sudden  splendor 

Came  shimmering  through  the  air, 
As  if  the  clouds  should  melt  and  leave 

The  heights  of  heaven  bare,  — 
A  maze  of  rainbow  domes  and  spires 

Full  glorious  on  the  sky, 
With  wafted  chimes  from  many  a  tower 

As  the  south  wind  went  by, 
And  a  thousand  crosses  lightly  hung 

That  shone  like  morning  stars  — 
'Twas  the  Kremlin  wall  I  'twas  Moscow  — 

The  jewel  of  the  Czars  ! 

T>Y  the   broad  guage,  arrowy  railway,  one  dim 

afternoon,  we  left  St.  Petersburg  for  Moscow. 

On  that  wide  level  the  city  sank  like  a  retiring  fleet 

at  sea,  the  high  towers  and  domes  of  the  Monastery 


28  TO  MOSCOW. 

of  Alexander  Nevski  lingering  longest  in  the  north- 
eastern horizon.  For  some  miles,  on  our  left,  a 
straggling  suburb  extended  south  along  the  old  post- 
road  between  the  two  cities.  Gradually  the  houses 
became  fewer,  and  at  length  we  were  alone  in  the 
great  pine-covered  plain. 

Only  the  last  of  July,  but  already  the  summer 
approached  its  dissolution.  Chill  mists  and  vapors 
hung  in  the  air,  and  every  breath  wafted  showers 
of  yellow  leaves  from  the  birch  trees  and  filled  the 
low  pines  with  answering  sighs.  There  is  no  sad- 
der sound  in  nature  than  the  wail  of  these  Russian 
winds  blowing  straight  from  the  wastes  of  ice  and 
death  that  encompass  the  Pole  —  their  force  un- 
broken from  the  Arctic  Sea  to  the  Caspian,  save  by 
the  forests  through  which  they  sweep  with  hollow, 
mournful  tones  that  have  in  them  some  secret  of 
eternity.  The  wind  of  the  desert  uplifts  the  soul ; 
that  of  these  northern  steppes  paralyzes  it  with 
fear. 

Now,  for  the  first  time,  we  began  to  see  the  vil- 
lages and  hamlets  of  the  former  serf  population, 
not  yet  changed  under  the  new  regime.  Nothing 
drearier  can  be  imagined  than  these  log  huts  with 
a  roof  of  boards  and  often  but  a  single  window, 


TO  MOSCOW.  29 

poor  sheds  which  seem  dropped  without  the  least 
order  upon  the  bare  plain.  Though  sometimes 
miles  from  any  town,  they  had  often  no  apparent 
shop  of  any  kind,  nor  street,  nor  winding  path,  nor 
tree,  nor  shrub,  nor  window  flower  to  relieve  the 
hard  monotony.  The  poorest  Highland  shieling 
has  its  gorse  and  heather  and  its  mountain  setting ; 
for  the  Irish  cot  there  is  the  little  garden  and  the 
encircling  green  ;  over  the  mud  hut  of  the  Egyp- 
tian the  palm  waves  its  plumes ;  but  neither  nature 
nor  art  cheers  these  mean  abodes  which  subserve 
only  the  rudest  necessities  of  existence.  Enter 
them  and  you  see  but  a  few  clumsy  articles  of  fur- 
niture of  the  peasant's  own  manufacture,  with  noth- 
ing to  raise  the  thoughts  above  groveling  cares  but 
the  little  picture  of  the  Madonna  or  some  patron 
saint  hung  high  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room, 
before  which  a  lamp  is  suspended  and  kept,  if  pos- 
sible, always  burning,  and  to  which  all  the  events 
of  the  humble  household  are  made  known.  Yet  as 
the  prison  captive  finds  a  world  of  delight  in  the 
unfolding  of  a  tiny  flower  or  the  weaving  of  a 
spider's  web,  so,  doubtless,  even  here  the  loving 
human  heart  sees  much  to  make  life  sweet  and 
desirable. 


30  TO  MOSCOW. 

The  Petersburg  and  Moscow  railway  was  built 
without  the  slightest  regard  to  important  towns  be- 
tween the  two  places.  From  end  to  end  its  appoint- 
ments are  noble  and  uniform.  The  station-houses 
are  handsome  structures,  built  of  brick,  while 
about  them  are  carefully  kept  grounds,  filled  with 
trees  and  plants  adapted  to  the  country.  In  the 
appartment  next  us  was  the  Grand  Duke  Constan- 
tine  going  to  Moscow,  a  man  with  the  stately, 
florid  beauty  of  the  Romanoff  family.  Wherever 
the  train  stopped  the  soldiers  of  the  adjoining  bar- 
racks were  drawn  up  on  the  platform  to  receive 
him,  still  as  statues,  their  right  hands  raised  in  the 
military  salute  as  he  appeared  and  passed  them  in 
review.  How  can  men  become  so  automatic,  a 
hundred  moving  absolutely  as  one  ?  It  seemed 
impossible  that  separate  human  hearts  beat  beneath 
those  gray  caftans. 

To  the  cloudy  afternoon  succeeded  the  long  twi- 
light which  is  the  night  of  the  northern  summer, 
and  through  it  we  held  our  way  southward,  ovei 
the  lonely,  forest-dark  plain.  At  five  o'clock  the 
next  morning  we  crossed  Europe's  great  river,  the 
Volga,  at  Tver,  where  its  navigation  begins,  and 
from  whence  you  may  sail  to  distant  Persia. 
Here,  two  hundred  miles  from   its   source  in   the 


TO  MOSCOW.  31 

only  elevations  of  central  Russia,  the  Valdai  hills, 
it  is  a  shallow  stream  some  six  hundred  feet  in 
breadth,  flowing  with  a  calm  current,  and  as  if 
quite  unconscious  of  all  the  tribes  and  territories 
its  waters  must  greet  before  they  find  the  sea.  The 
boats  and  barges  which  crowd  it  show  the  impor- 
tance it  even  here  attains  as  an  avenue  of  com- 
merce. Tver  rises  picturesquely  on  its  right  bank, 
an  ancient  town  famous  in  the  past  for  its  invasions 
by  Poles  and  Tartars,  and  for  the  murder,  in  its 
convent,  of  the  Metropolitan  Philip ;  and  in  the 
present,  for  its  manufacture  of  nails  from  the  iron 
of  the  Ourals. 

Advancing  day  revealed  an  atmosphere  undim- 
cned  by  the  fogs  of  St.  Petersburg,  and  through 
which  the  sun  shone  with  warmer  ray.  Fields  of 
eye  and  barley  began  to  gain  upon  the  fir-woods  ; 
;he  grass  was  greener ;  the  trees  taller  ;  the  mo- 
notony of  the  vast  plain  relieved  by  marked  undula- 
cions ;  and  at  length,  —  like  Madrid  shining  in  the 
morning  sun  as  you  approach  it  over  the  wind- 
swept table-lands  of  Castile,  but  far  more  glorious, 
—  before  us  rose  an  assemblage  of  brilliant  white 
walls  and  of  glittering  domes  and  towers,  and  we 
were  in  that  Asiatic  city  planted  on  the  steppes  of 
Europe,  "  Holy  Mother  Moscow  !" 


TIIE  SHRINES   OF  MOSCOW. 


THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW. 


Above  each  gate  a  blessed  Saint 

Asks  favor  of  the  skies, 
And  the  hosts  of  the  foe  do  fail  and  faint 

At  the  gleam  of  their  watchful  eyes  ; 
And  Pole,  and  Tartar,  and  haughty  Gaul, 
Flee,  dismayed,  from  the  Kremlin  wall. 

Here  lie  our  ancient  Czars,  asleep.  — 

Ivan  and  Feodor, — 
While  loving  angels  round  them  keep 

Sweet  peace  forevermore  ! 
Only  when  Easter  bells  ring  loud, 
They  sign  the  cross  beneath  the  shroud. 

O  Troitsa's  altar  is  divine,  — 

St.  Sergius  1  hear  our  prayers  I 
And  Kieff,  Olga's  lofty  shrine, 

The  name  of  "  The  Holy  "  bears  ; 
But  Moscow  blends  all  rays  in  one  — 
They  are  the  stars,  and  she  the  sun  I 

rilHE    story  of  Moscow  is  written  on  its  streets 

and  walls.     Every  roof  and  dome  bears  the 

impress  of  Tartar  domination,  and  the  dark  faces 


36  THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW. 

among  its  fair  Muscovite  crowds  show  that  the 
Asiatic  still  lingers  in  the  long  contested  land.  Its 
dwellings,  white  or  pink  or  yellow,  green-roofed 
and  encompassed  with  gardens ;  its  palaces  and 
conventual  piles ;  its  churches  with  lofty  towers 
filled  with  bells  ;  its  numberless  domes  and  cupolas, 
gilded,  silvered,  enameled,  —  each  upholding  above 
the  crescent  a  cross  of  gold  attached  by  shining 
chains  of  filagree  work,  —  and,  high  in  the  midst, 
the  strange  gateways  and  battlements  and  spires 
of  the  Kremlin,  make  up  a  Christian,  Mohammedan, 
wondrous  whole,  more  impressive  for  the  solitary 
waste  which  encircles  its  grotesque,  yet  unrivaled 
splendors. 

The  Kremlin  is  both  fortress  and  altar  ;  the  re- 
ligious heart  of  Russia ;  the  place  of  her  holiest 
shrines  and  the  deposit  of  her  proudest  trophies. 
About  it  the  streets  of  Moscow  range  themselves 
as  those  of  an  English  cathedral  city  do  about  the 
minster.  Triangular  in  shape  and  somewhat  over 
a  mile  in  circumference,  it  rises  on  the  elevated 
bank  of  the  Moskwa,  quaint,  and  grand,  and  inde- 
scribable. Massive  stone  walls  —  now  surmounting 
an  elevation,  now  dipping  into  a  ravine  —  close  it 
round,  irregular,  bold,  and  fanciful  in  design,  pierced 


THE  SERINES  OF  MOSCOW.  37 

by  gates  and  overhung  with  towers.  The  most 
famous  of  these  is  the  "  Redeemer  Gate,"  near  the 
middle  of  the  eastern  wall,  built  by  a  Milanese  the 
year  before  the  discovery  of  America.  Above  it 
hangs  an  adored  picture  of  the  Redeemer  of  Smo- 
lensk, at  sight  of  which  (so  says  tradition)  the  awe- 
struck Tartars,  in  their  last  invasion,  turned  away 
from  the  fortress,  while,  a  century  later,  the  Poles 
fled  before  it  when  it  was  borne  by  Pojarski  to  the 
battle-field;  and  ever  since,  for  these  gracious  inter- 
positions, all  who  enter,  Czar  as  well  as  peasant,  bare 
their  heads  and  cross  themselves  in  devotion.  Next 
in  importance  is  the  Nicholas  Gate,  with  its  picture 
of  St.  Nicholas  of  Mojaisk,  who  abhors  lies,  and  in 
face  of  which,  in  old  days,  oaths  were  administered 
to  contesting  parties.  Over  it  is  written  the  proud 
inscription  of  Alexander  I.,  that  Napoleon's  order 
to  destroy  this  gate  was  only  effectual  in  cleaving 
the  tower  at  its  base,  while  neither  the  glass  of  the 
picture  nor  its  hanging  lamp  were  broken.  The 
moat  which  once  encircled  the  walls  is  now  trans- 
formed into  gardens  planted  with  trees  and  shrubs 
and  flowers,  and  thronged  with  pleasure  seekers 
during  the  warm  evenings  of  the  fleeting  summer. 
Perhaps  the  best  point  from  which  to  view  th« 


38  THE  SHRINES   OF  MOSCOW. 

Kremlin  is  at  its  southwestern  angle,  on  the  stone 
bridge  across  the  Moskwa,  in  the  late  afternoon. 
There  it  rises  before  you,  stately  with  domes  and 
towers ;  defiant  with  battlements  and  turrets  and 
lance-like  spires ;  gay  with  golden  pinnacles  and 
roofs  of  green  and  azure,  and  bearing  aloft  its  glit 
tering  crosses  like  lines  of  fire  against  the  sky. 
Last  summer,  in  the  high  Rocky  Mountains,  before 
an  assemblage  of  unusual  jagged  peaks,  and  bare, 
regular  walls,  suddenly  the  setting  sun  broke  from 
the  clouds  and  lit  up  the  whole  range  with  glory. 
The  snow-masses  were  dazzling  in  their  whiteness  ; 
the  ravines  lay  in  blackest  shadow  ;  each  crag  and 
splinter  was  bathed  in  crimson  light ;  the  pines 
stood  in  intensest  green,  and,  beyond,  many  a  lofty 
projecting  point  shone  like  a  star.  Memories  of 
Moscow  came  vividly  back,  and,  enchanted,  I  said, 
"  It  is  the  Kremlin  of  Colorado  !  " 

Although  St.  Petersburg  is  the  residence  of  the 
Czars,  the  most  important  events  of  their  lives  are 
solemnized  in  the  Kremlin  of  Moscow ; — crowned 
in  the  Cathedral  of  the  Assumption ;  wedded  in 
that  of  the  Annunciation  ;  buried,  until  the  time  of 
Peter  the  Great,  in  the  Church  of  the  Archangel 
Michael.     The  Cathedral  of  the  Assumption  is  the 


THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW.  39 

Russian  Holy  of  Holies,  adorned  with  the  oldest 
and  most  sacred  pictures  and  containing  the  tombs 
of  the  famous  patriarchs  who  have  officiated  there. 
Solidly  built  of  stone,  the  plainness  of  its  exterior  is 
only  relieved  by  the  five  golden  domes  ;  but  within 
there  is  no  space  which  is  not  covered  with  paint- 
ings or  mosaics  on  a  gilded  ground,  —  the  most 
precious  set  with  costly  gems,  —  and  so  unchanged 
is  it  by  the  lapse  of  time  that  the  most  conservative 
sects  of  the  Orthodox  Church  can  worship  here  un- 
disturbed by  heretical  innovations.  Every  Easter, 
when  the  huge  bell  of  the  adjacent  tower  sends  its 
summons  abroad,  they  crowd  its  court-yard  and  its 
narrow  but  lofty  nave,  and  prostrate  themselves  as 
before  an  unpolluted  shrine.  Through  the  doors  of 
its  silver  screen,  the  Czar  at  his  coronation,  after 
reciting,  as  Head  of  the  Church,  the  Orthodox 
Confession  of  Faith,  and  praying  for  the  empire, 
enters  the  sacred  place  and  takes  the  consecrated 
bread  and  wine  from  the  altar  in  the  holy  com- 
munion. From  this  priestly  act  the  doors  of  every 
church  screen  throughout  the  land  bear  the  title  of 
"  Royal." 

Yet,  like  most  Russian  cathedrals,  its  interior  is 
oppressive    in    its    gloom.     The   incense-laden   air, 


40  THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW. 

tempered  by  no  artificial  heat,  is  always  chill.  The 
sun  falls  obliquely  through  the  high  windows,  and 
in  the  lower  dimness  the  lamps  burning  before  the 
sacred  shrines  seem  like  twinkling  stars.  There  is 
scarcely  light  enough  to  display  the  patriarchal 
tombs  —  the  mummied  hand  of  the  Metropolitan 
Philip  exposed  for  the  kisses  of  the  devout  —  the 
jeweled  pictures  of  the  screen  behind  which  no 
woman  is  allowed  to  pass,  and  which  rises,  massive 
and  high,  as  if  to  bar  the  soul  from  more  intimate 
communion.  The  martyrs  stare  with  hard,  fixed 
features  from  the  square,  gilded  pillars  that  uphold 
the  dome,  and  madonnas  and  saints,  with  the  same 
faces  here  as  everywhere  from  Abo  to  Odessa  (for 
no  departure  is  allowed  from  the  old  Byzantine 
models),  look  out  meagre  and  sombre  and  grim 
from  their  imprisoning  frames. 

Two  things  lighten  the  solemn  melancholy  of 
the  service  —  the  equality  of  classes,  and  the  music 
of  the  chants  and  responses.  Here  are  no  pews  or 
privileged  seats,  but  high  and  low  bow  side  by  side 
before  the  altar,  the  costly  furs  and  velvets  and 
rich  shawls  of  the  nobles  brushing  the  worn  felt 
and  ragged  sheep-skin  of  the  serf.  The  old  Greek 
chants  are  employed,  rearranged  in  the  last  century 


THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW.  41 

by  Italian  masters,  but  retaining  their  noble  sim- 
plicity ;  wholly  vocal,  yet  so  pure,  so  sweet,  so 
harmonious,  that  they  float  through  the  gloom  like 
songs  of  seraphs  ministering  to  souls  in  prison. 
I  shall  never  forget  a  vesper  service  in  the  church 
of  the  Kremlin  Convent  of  the  Ascension  —  the 
devout,  silent  crowd,  the  priest  in  his  blue  tunic 
and  long  fair  curls  making  the  round  of  the  sacred 
pictures  with  incense  and  candles,  and  the  celestial 
warbling  of  the  nuns  in  an  adjoining  chapel,  high 
and  clear  as  if  with  the  sound  their  souls  were  ex- 
haling to  heaven ! 

On  the  site  of  the  old  residence  of  the  Czars  in 
the  Kremlin,  the  Emperor  Nicholas  erected  a  mar- 
ble palace  crowned  with  a  gilded  dome,  its  white 
mass  conspicuous  from  every  point  of  view.  Its 
interior  is  singularly  splendid,  from  the  great  hall 
used  only  for  the  banquet  given  by  the  emperor 
to  the  nobles,  after  his  coronation,  to  the  private 
apartments  for  the  royal  family  during  their  visits 
to  Moscow.  All  that  remained  entire  of  the  old 
palace  was  incorporated  with  the  new,  the  most 
important  relic  being  the  "  Red  Staircase  "  leading 
to  the  Cathedral  of  the  Assumption,  and  connected 
with  many  notable  events  in  Russian  history.     It 


42  THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW. 

was  up  these  stairs  Napoleon  strode  to  take  posses- 
sion. Ah,  could  he  but  have  looked  forward  fifty 
years,  and  seen  that  the  only  trace  of  him  there 
would  be  the  pictures  on  the  walls  portraying  his 
defeat !  But  there  was  no  wizard  to  give  Lochiel 
a  warning. 

In  the  treasury  adjoining,  are  gathered  the  tro- 
phies and  mementoes  which  invading  armies  and 
ravaging  fires  have  left  to  Russia.  Here  are  the 
standards  of  the  ancient  Czars  ;  captured  colors  — 
the  pride  of  Turkey  and  Persia  —  and  the  banners 
borne  to  the  conquest  of  Siberia ;  the  coronation 
robes  and  thrones  and  crowns  and  sceptres  of  the 
Russian  royal  line,  and  those  taken  from  the  kings 
who  have  submitted  to  them  —  of  Kazan,  of  Poland, 
of  Astrakhan,  of  Georgia  —  with  countless  other 
things  illustrative  of  the  past,  and  valuable  for  rich- 
ness of  material  or  association.  The  Church  Treas- 
ury, in  the  House  of  the  Holy  Synod,  close  to  the 
Cathedral  of  the  Assumption,  is  filled  with  superb 
ecclesiastical  relics  —  robes  and  mitres  thick  set  with 
pearls  and  precious  stones,  gems  engraved  with 
sacred  subjects,  and  worn  by  bishops  on  a  chain 
about  the  neck  —  and,  most  interesting  of  all,  the 
Bilver  vessels  for  the  preparation  of  the  holy  oil  of 


THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW.  43 

baptism,  mingled  here  during  Lent  by  the  metro- 
politan and  his  associate  clergy ;  composed  of  the 
purest  wines  and  oils  and  spices  and  balsams,  and 
sent  hence  to  each  bishop  in  the  empire.  Every 
church  is  consecrated  with  it ;  every  communicant 
(and  all  Orthodox  Russians  are  communicants), 
from  Czar  to  peasant,  is  anointed  with  it  in  bap- 
tism. A  small,  curious  flask  is  still  preserved 
here,  in  which  it  is  said  the  first  oil  was  sent  to 
the  Russian  Church  from  Constantinople.  The 
soft-voiced  monk  in  black  robes,  who  was  in  at- 
tendance, took  up  this  flask  with  the  utmost  ven- 
eration, and  told  us  how  every  year  a  few  drops 
were  poured  from  it  to  sanctify  the  new  chrism, 
and  an  equal  quantity  of  the  fresh  mixture  re- 
turned, so  that  it  remains  always  full. 

The  treasure-rooms  of  Russia  make  jewels  seem 
valueless  through  abundance.  You  would  hardly 
be  surprised  if  at  length  you  were  shown  an  apart- 
ment blazing  from  floor  to  ceiling  with  rubies  and 
diamonds.  And  these  riches  are  but  a  part  of  the 
wealth  and  glory  of  the  Kremlin.  Every  stone  has 
its  memories  ;  every  room  has  its  relics  ;  and  all 
are  consecrated  to  patriotism  and  to  religion. 


44  THE  SERINES  OF  MOSCOW. 

Just  outside  the  Redeemer  Gate  of  the  Kremlin 
stands  the  most  picturesque  edifice  in  Russia, — 
that  conglomerate  of  rainbow  domes  and  towers,  — • 
that  tulip  of  architecture,  —  the  Church  of  St.  Basil. 
Erected  in  the  sixteenth  century  to  commemorate 
the  taking  of  Kazan,  it  is  the  wildest  dream  of  a 
mosque,  except  that  for  the  light,  airy  spaces  of  the 
Arab  structures,  there  are  the  heavy  walls  and  the 
gaily-pakited,  dungeon-like  chapels  of  the  Musco- 
vite north. 

Rivaling  the  ancient  edifices  in  splendor  and  in- 
terest is  the  Temple  of  the  Saviour,  on  an  elevated 
position  above  the  river  and  a  little  southwest  of 
the  Kremlin.  Built  in  memory  of  Russia's  triumph 
over  the  French,  it  was  begun  the  very  year  of  their 
invasion,  and  it  will  be  yet  some  years  before  its 
completion.  The  site  originally  selected  was  upon 
the  hills  from  whence  Napoleon  had  his  first  view 
of  the  city,  but  the  ground  was  not  firm,  and  it 
was  removed  from  thence  to  its  present  locality. 
It  is  constructed  of  a  light  stone,  in  the  simplest 
form  of  a  Greek  cross,  and  —  what  is  rare  in  a 
Russian  Church,  where  statues  are  forbidden,  and 
anything  in  the  form  of  sculpture  is  unusual  —  it  is 


THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW.  45 

adorned  on  the  exterior,  for  half  its  height,  with 
well-wrought  bas-reliefs  of  scenes  from  Scripture 
and  from  Russian  history,  appropriate  to  the  event 
it  celebrates.  Its  golden  Oriental  domes  are  far 
more  beautiful  than  the  smoothly  rounded  ones  of 
St.  Isaac's,  and  the  crosses  which  surmount  them 
are  not  of  the  Latin  type,  but  such  as  are  found  on 
the  early  churches  of  the  Empire,  with  three  trans- 
verse bars,  according  to  the  tradition  which  makes 
the  cross  of  Christ  to  have  been  fashioned  of  cedar, 
and  palm,  and  cypress,  and  olive.  Over  the  en- 
trance is  the  watchword,  "  God  with  us,"  and 
within,  the  Temple  is  massive  with  rich  marbles, 
conspicuous  among  them  a  dark-veined,  lustrous 
stone  from  the  Crimea.  Blent  with  Christmas  cere- 
monies, how  grand  will  rise  beneath  this  roof,  the 
thanksgivings  of  the  nation  for  deliverance  from 
the  foe  !  One  might  well  cross  the  sea  and  the 
steppe  to  listen  here  to  the  words  with  which  the 
service  opens,  "  How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven, 
O  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning!  " 

When  we  saw  the  cathedral,  workmen  were 
busy  quietly  fitting  and  polishing  the  costly  blocks, 
— tokens  of  Russia's  patriotism  and  devotion,  —  and 
on  the  grassy  space  without,  bluebells  and  butter 


46  THE  SHRINES  OF  MOSCOW. 

cups  nodded  in  the  wind  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
great  dome,  and  the  Moskwa  rippled  calmly  below 
as  if  neither  invader's  foot  nor  clash  of  arms  had 
ever  disturbed  their  tranquillity. 

And  this  is  the  end  of  Napoleon  in  Russia. 


MOSCOW  BEYOND   THE  KREMLIN. 


MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 


O  the  splendor  of  the  city, 

When  the  sun  is  in  the  west ! 
Ruddy  gold  on  spire  and  belfry, 

Gold  on  Moskwa's  placid  breast ; 
Till  the  twilight  soft  and  sombre 

Falls  on  wall  and  street  and  square, 
And  the  domes  and  towers  in  shadow 

Stand  like  silent  monks  at  prayer. 

'T  is  the  hour  for  dreams  and  phantoms;  — 

Meet  me  by  the  Sacred  Gate  ! 
Ah,  what  ghostly  forms  may  enter 

When  the  night  is  wearing  late  ! 
Czars  may  pass  in  haughty  penance ; 

Khans  bewail  their  Kremlin  gone ; 
Boris,  Timur,  haunt  the  fortress 

Till  the  east  is  pale  with  dawn. 

li/TOSCOW  is  full  of  interest  outside  of  Krem- 
lin and  church  and   palace.     Its  situation 
is  high  and  healthful,  and  its  half  million  inhab- 
itants are  spread  over  an  area  greater  than  that  of 


50  MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 

any  other  European  city  except  London.  It  is  the 
largest  manufacturing  town  in  Russia,  —  having 
within  its  walls  and  suburbs  nearly  two  hundred 
factories  for  the  weaving  of  silk  alone,  —  and  when 
more  railways  have  penetrated  the  East,  it  will  be 
the  mart  of  exchange  for  Europe  and  Asia.  Its 
nobles  follow  the  court  to  St.  Petersburg.  Mer- 
chant princes  are  taking  their  place. 

On  reaching  the  city  we  established  ourselves, 
after  trying  the  pretentious  "H6tel  Dusaux,"  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Billot,  which  we  found  very  comforta- 
ble. The  landlord,  a  gentlemanly  Swiss,  had  what 
seems  to  be  thought  a  necessity  here,  a  little  place 
out  of  town,  where  he  spent  every  night,  returning 
in  the  morning  with  spotless  linen,  a  flower  in  his 
button-hole,  and  bouquets  for  the  rooms,  from  his 
own  garden.  We  sometimes  dined  at  the  public 
table  to  see  the  varied  company  assembled  there, 
and  had  occasionally  striking  proofs  of  the  union  of 
countries  ana"  races,  to  which  the  world  is  tending. 
One  day  a  man  extolled  to  his  neighbor,  a  London 
merchant,  "  the  delicious  pumpkin  pies  of  New 
England."  He  was  a  Tyrolese,  who  had  been  in 
this  country  as  the  leader  of  a  band  of  singers,  and 
in  the  same  capacity  was  then  on  his  way  to  Nijni 


MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN.  51 

At  another  time,  a  Hungarian,  who  had  spent  sev- 
eral years  in  America  as  a  political  exile,  narrated 
a  sharp  story  of  a  New  Hampshire  man's  evasion 
of  the  Maine  Liquor  Law.  It  excited  such  laughter 
in  those  who  understood  it,  that  he  was  pressed  to 
repeat  it  in  Russ,  which  he  did,  and  afterwards  in 
Italian,  in  French,  and  in  German.  Its  sly  Yankee 
humor  appeared  to  be  as  much  appreciated  by  all 
these  people,  as  it  would  have  been  at  home.  A 
stout  Nuremberger  laughed  till  he  seemed  on  the 
point  of  apoplexy,  and  the  Italian  cried  "  Bravo  I  " 
till  the  ceiling  rang. 

From  this  house,  which  was  near  the  Kremlin, 
we  explored,  at  leisure,  the  city  and  its  suburbs. 
Nothing  can  be  more  entertaining  than  that  laby- 
rinth of  shops,  the  Great  Bazaar,  in  whose  long 
arcades  each  trade  has  its  quarter  ;  none  among 
them  more  inviting  than  that  devoted  to  jewelers 
and  silversmiths,  whose  shelves  and  counters  shine 
with  the  crystals  and  gems  of  Siberia  and  India,  and 
with  articles  of  the  exquisite  niello  work  peculiar 
to  the  country.  At  each  merchant's  right  hand 
was  seen  a  small  frame  filled  with  ivory  balls,  strung 
on  wires,  by  which  he  reckoned  his  accounts,  and 
perhaps  standing  near  it  was  a  glass  of  tea.    Scarce* 


62  MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 

Iy  less  attractive  is  the  Riadi,  an  open  bazaar,  the 
centre  of  the  traffic  in  wax  tapers,  sacred  pictures, 
and  the  lamps  which  burn  before  them.  When 
one  remembers  that  no  Russian  room,  whether  in 
hut  or  palace  or  place  of  public  resort,  is  complete 
without  its  holy  picture  hung  high  in  the  farthest 
corner,  it  explains  these  piles  upon  piles  of  Madon- 
nas and  heaps  of  saints  and  apostles,  framed  in 
every  form  and  fashion  to  suit  varying  tastes  and 
means.  Then  there  is  the  Fair  held  on  Sundays 
in  the  street,  —  the  bazaar  of  the  poorest  classes, 
where  every  variety  of  trash  spread  over  rude 
tables  or  upon  mats  on  the  ground,  finds  a  market, 
and  where,  if  you  mingle  with  the  crowd,  you  must 
be  careful  not  to  press  too  near  to  the  peasants  lest 
you  should  take  home  with  you  some  of  the  vermin 
of  which  their  greasy  sheep-skin  coats  are  often 
full ;  for  the  bath  that  must  always  precede  their 
church  communion,  does  not  extend  to  their  clothes, 
which  are  worn  without  washing,  night  and  day. 
for  months  and  perhaps  years,  until  they  become 
rags,  and  are  exchanged  for  new. 

The  tea-houses  with  their  white-robed  attend- 
ants who  serve  the  delicate  overland  tea  —  to  the 
ladies  in  cups,  to  the  gentlemen  in  deep  glass  tum« 


MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN.  53 

biers  —  with  a  slice  of  lemon  dropped  into  it  instead 
of  cream,  are  a  novel  feature  of  the  city.  To  these 
quiet  tables,  with  their  fragrant  beverage,  come 
friends  for  genial  talk ;  buyers  and  sellers  to  con- 
summate their  bargains;  civilians  and  soldiers  to 
discuss  politics  and  promotion,  and  all  classes  for 
recreation  and  cheer.  The  finest  tea  here  costs 
about  ten  dollars  a  pound,  and  a  leaf  or  two  will 
make  a  full  cup.  When  drawn  it  is  of  a  faint 
amber  color  and  has  a  delicious  aroma.  Hot  tea  is 
sold  about  the  streets  in  winter  as  lemonade  is  in 
summer.  When  sugar  is  used  it  is  not  dropped  into 
the  cup  or  glass,  but  the  lump  is  held  in  the  hand 
and  a  bite  taken  now  and  then  —  an  inconvenient 
way,  for  the  fine-grained,  solid  beet-root  sugar  is  as 
hard  as  a  stone. 

Most  of  the  Tartars  here  are  in  a  menial  condition 
and  employed  as  coachmen  and  servants.  Many 
families  are,  however,  of  mingled  Tartar  and  Rus- 
sian blood.  Several  of  the  churches  in  the  city 
might  seem  to  have  been  reared  for  the  worship  of 
41  the  Faithful "  if  only  on  the  swelling  domes  the 
crescent  replaced  the  cross,  and  from  the  high  toAvers 
the  bells  were  removed  to  make  way  for  the  muez- 
zin calling  to  prayer.     But  the  rule  of  the  Prophet 


54  MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 

is  over.  There  is  but  a  single  mosque,  at  the  ex 
tremity  of  the  city — a  poor,  plain  affair  where  the 
few  Mohammedans  gather  meekly  to  their  devotions, 
in  mockery  of  the  day  when  the  Duke  of  Muscovy 
went  forth  to  meet  the  Tartar  ambassadors,  spread- 
ing a  mat  of  rich  sables  for  their  feet,  presenting 
them  with  a  goblet  of  mare's  milk,  —  the  wine  of 
the  Mongol  steppes,  —  and  humbly  licking  up  the 
drops  that  fell  on  the  manes  of  their  fiery  horses ! 

The  great  Foundling  Hospital,  established  by 
Catherine  II.,  has,  as  one  source  of  its  revenue,  the 
profits  derived  from  the  government  manufacture 
of  playing  cards  —  no  inconsiderable  sum,  for  card- 
playing  is  almost  universal.  The  girls  brought  up 
here  are,  at  a  proper  age,  shown  on  certain  days  to 
visitors.  Five  kopecks  a  week  are  laid  up  by  the 
state  as  their  dowry.  They  are  often  pleasing  and 
well  educated,  and  are  frequently  chosen  for  wives 
by  the  lesser  merchants,  as  they  have  no  trouble- 
some relations. 

Yet  neither  cathedral  nor  bazaar  nor  hospital 
has  more  charms  for  the  stranger  than  the  out-door 
life  of  the  city.  The  streets  are  of  varying  width  ; 
crooked,  paved  with  sharp,  flinty  stones,  and  lined 
with    buildings    of    every    style    of    architecture 


MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN.  55 

Churches,  palaces,  and  the  pink  or  yellow  white- 
washed cottages  of  peasants  are  jumbled  together, 
and  from  whatever  point  you  look  some  picturesque 
group  of  domes  and  towers  delights  the  eye,  or 
perchance  down  the  vista  you  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  Kremlin  wall.  Through  these  avenues  pours 
the  varied  population.  Princes  pass  in  their  swift 
carriages,  and  perhaps  the  Metropolitan,  hidden  in 
his  stately  coach  drawn  by  sleek  black  horses  of 
noble  breed ;  merchants  dash  by  in  their  droskies  — 
men,  it  may  be,  of  enormous  wealth,  and  whose 
transactions  are  now  with  Paris  and  now  with 
Pekin ;  drays  and  country  carts  lumber  along, 
driven  by  peasants  with  wide  trousers  tucked  into 
high  boots,  or  tied  with  a  string  —  their  feet  en- 
cased in  shoes  made  of  plaited  reeds  or  strips  of 
lime-tree  bark,  fashioned  by  themselves  in  the  long 
winter  evenings  —  a  blouse-like  shirt  of  calico, 
often  pink  in  color,  worn  outside  the  trousers  and 
confined  at  the  waist  by  a  sash  or  a  belt  of  leather, 
and  above  this,  unless  in  heat  of  noon,  a  wrapper 
of  sheep-skin  reaching  below  the  knees  —  while 
often  there  is  no  covering  for  the  head  but  the 
yellow,  matted  hair,  bound  with  a  fillet  and  falling 
low  on  the  shoulders  as  the  full  beard  falls  on  the 


56  MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 

breast.  In  the  open  spaces  stand  the  coachmen 
with  their  vehicles  waiting  to  be  hired  —  dressed  in 
low,  broad-crowned,  black  hats ;  long  caftans  of 
dark  cloth  fitting  close  about  the  neck  but  without 
a  collar,  padded  at  the  hips,  double  in  front  and 
fastened  under  the  left  arm  with  six  metal  buttons ; 
while  their  thick  white  gloves,  when  not  in  use,  are 
secured  by  the  thumbs  to  their  girdles.  Men  carry 
about  buckets  filled  with  salted  cucumbers,  selling 
them,  one  by  one,  to  the  peasant  crowd  as  a  relish 
for  their  black  bread,  which  they  eat  as  they  go. 
At  the  churches  and  the  street  shrines  of  the  Vir- 
gin, passers-by  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  even 
prostrate  themselves  in  their  reverence.  Nurses 
appear  clad  in  the  Russian  national  costume  —  a 
white  under-garment,  rather  low  in  the  neck,  with 
full,  short  sleeves  ;  a  dark  skirt  gathered  into  a 
band  just  above  the  bosom  and  suspended  by  straps 
over  the  shoulders,  and  a  belt  about  the  waist  from 
which  depends  a  long  white  apron.  Earrings  and  a 
necklace  of  beads  are  worn,  and  on  the  head  a  high, 
turban-like  cap  of  some  bright  color.  This  striking 
but  rather  formless  attire,  seems  now  to  be  given 
over  to  nurses,  and  court  ladies  for  state  occasions, 
when    the    head-dress   blazes    with  jewels.      Mer. 


MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN.  57 

chants'  clerks,  when  not  busy,  may  be  seen  sitting 
in  the  shop  doors  playing  chess  or  dominoes  and 
perhaps  holding  a  pet  cat  the  while.  Loads  of 
birch  wood  go  by,  often  a  most  expensive  lux- 
ury for  the  poorest  peasants  ;  but  a  little  wood 
lasts  them  long,  as  their  brick  ovens  are  not  al- 
lowed to  cool,  and  air  is  excluded.  Soldiers  con- 
scious and  unbending  in  their  uniforms  are  always 
in  view,  and  the  dark  faces  of  Gypsies,  Tartars, 
Persians,  and  Jews  are  a  pleasant  relief  after 
the  fair  monotony  of  the  average  Russians.  Why 
is  it  that  the  men  of  the  Slavonic  family  are  so 
much  comelier  than  the  women  ?  Handsome  men 
abound,  and  doubtless  there  are  lovely,  graceful 
women  here,  but  they  are  rarely  visible  in  church, 
or  street,  or  bazaar.  I  saw  only  one  or  two  who 
could  be  called  beautiful,  but  they  showed  the  possi- 
bilities of  the  race  —  dainty  creatures  with  the  lily 
complexion,  blue  eyes,  and  blonde  hair,  which  we 
ascribe  to  angels ;  the  type,  perhaps,  of  the  An- 
astasias  and  Natalies  whom  the  early  Czars  chose 
out  of  all  the  land  to  share  their  throne.  The 
women  of  the  lower  classes,  with  their  flat  features, 
and  hair  and  eyes  and  skin  of  much  the  same  hue, 
have  ordinarily  nothing  but  an  honest,  good-natured 


58  MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 

expression  to  redeem  their  round  faces  from  positive 
ugliness.  They  wear  loose  boots,  short  skirts,  long 
sacques  of  wadded  cloth  or  sheep-skin,  tie  a  thick 
handkerchief  over  their  heads,  and  at  a  little  dis- 
tance look  so  much  like  men  that  you  can  hardly 
tell  whether  you  are  gazing  at  Ivan  or  Nadia. 

These  shifting  scenes  through  the  day  ;  but  if  at 
dawn  a  trumpet  blast  should  wake  you,  and,  rising, 
you  should  look  from  your  window,  you  would  see 
a  different  sight,  —  a  mournful  procession  threading 
the  yet  quiet  streets,  —  first  a  mounted  police  officer, 
then  a  trumpeter,  then  a  company  of  soldiers,  and 
lastly  a  high  cart  drawn  by  four  horses  abreast,  and 
on  its  top,  in  convict  garb,  a  criminal  who  is  to  be 
thus  exposed  for  three  successive  mornings  and  then 
set  out  on  his  long  journey  to  Siberia.  They  round 
the  corner ;  the  brazen  notes  ring  out  again ;  the 
Cossacks  close  their  line  and  the  poor  wretch  hangs 
his  head  as  he  disappears.  Melancholy  as  is  the 
scene,  it  is  said  that  exile  to  Siberia  is  not  now 
the  terrible  fate  it  was  in  former  days,  and  it  is 
comforting  to  think  that  death  on  the  gallows,  so 
common  with  us,  is  unknown  in  Russia  except  as 
the  penalty  of  high  treason. 

In  the  suburbs  of  Moscow  are  various  ornamen- 


MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN.  59 

tal  gardens,  to  which  the  people  resort,  especially 
on  Sundays;  for  Sunday,  after  morning  church,  is  a 
holiday,  the  Russians,  both  men  and  women,  smok- 
ing cigarettes,  sipping  tea,  and  playing  cards,  of 
which  they  are  passionately  fond  ;  the  Germans, 
and  there  are  many  here,  drinking  beer,  smoking 
their  pipes,  or  listening  to  the  music  of  an  orchestra, 
or  to  the  singing  of  some  band  of  Tyrolese  or 
Gypsies.  We  even  saw  them  one  day  sitting  be- 
neath their  umbrellas  in  a  chill,  misty  rain,  and 
drinking  in  the  sweet  sounds  as  complacently  as  if 
they  had  been  by  the  sunny  Rhine.  These  gar- 
dens are  kept  with  care,  and  every  shrub  and  tree 
is  cultivated  which  the  climate  favors.  There  are 
trim  hedges,  plots  of  bright  flowers,  lindens  and 
elms  and  locusts  ;  and  if  you  do  not  look  beyond  to 
see  the  native  forests  —  the  sombre  firs  and  thin 
birches  that  stretch  away  to  the  horizon  —  you  will 
hardly  credit  your  high  latitude. 

I  know  not  which  is  the  more  beautiful  city, 
Constantinople  as  you  approach  it  from  the  Sea  of 
Marmora,  or  Moscow  from  the  Sparrow  Hills.  The 
one  rises  from  the  water's  edge,  its  white  minarets 
melting  into  the  blue  sky  of  the  south ;  the  other 
towers  and  flashes  from  the  northern  plain.     About 


60  MOSCOW  BEYOND  THE  KREMLIN. 

the  Turkish  capital  cluster  the  storied  hills  of  Eu- 
rope and  Asia ;  around  that  of  Muscovy  the  river 
winds  like  a  line  of  enchantment,  and  the  lofty 
domed  monasteries  on  its  borders  stand  like  sen- 
tinels keeping  watch  over  the  sacred  shrines.  I 
know  not ;  but  had  I  one  drop  of  Russian  blood  in 
my  veins,  Moscow  should  be  to  me  Queen  of  the 
World  1 


MOSCOW  BELLS. 


MOSCOW  BELLS. 


That  distant  chime  1     As  soft  it  swells, 

What  memories  o'er  me  steal  1 
Again  I  hear  the  Moscow  bells 

Across  the  moorland  peal ! 
The  bells  that  rock  the  Kremlin  tower 

Like  a  strong  wind,  to  and  fro,  — 
Silver  sweet  in  its  topmost  bower, 

And  the  thunder's  boom  below. 

They  say  that  oft  at  Easter  dawn 

When  all  the  world  is  fair, 
God's  angels  out  of  heaven  are  drawn 

To  list  the  music  there. 
And  while  the  rose-clouds  with  the  breeze 

Drift  onward,  —  like  a  dream, 
High  in  the  ether's  pearly  seaa 

Their  radiant  faces  gleam. 

O  when  some  Merlin  with  his  spell* 

A  new  delight  would  bring, 
Say  :  I  will  hear  the  Moscow  bellfl 

Across  the  moorland  rinj;  1 


64  MOSCOW  BELLS. 

The  bells  that  rock  the  Kremlin  tower 

Like  a  strong  wind,  to  and  fro,  — 
Silver  sweet  in  its  topmost  bower, 

And  the  thunder's  boom  below  1 

T  OFTIEST  of  all  the  structures  in  Moscow  is 
the  Tower  of  John  the  Great,  near  to  the  Ca- 
thedral of  the  Assumption.  Erected  just  before  the 
incoming  of  the  Romanoff'  dynasty,  it  looks  solid 
enough  to  send  its  peals  down  the  centuries  and 
welcome  the  latest  sovereign  of  the  line.  Its  base- 
ment is  a  chapel  dedicated  to  St.  John,  over  which 
rises  story  after  story  filled  with  bells,  the  largest 
weighing  sixty-four  tons  —  nearly  five  times  the 
weight  of  the  great  bell  of  England,  at  York  Min- 
ster, yet  only  half  that  of  the  "  Czar  Kolokol,"  the 
broken  bell  which  rests  on  a  granite  pedestal  at  the 
foot  of  the  tower.  The  smallest  two  are  of  silver, 
most  sweet,  most  musical ;  and  above  them  expands 
the  golden  dome,  its  crowning  cross  nearly  three 
hundred  feet  in  air.  From  whatever  point  one 
views  the  city  this  tower  rises  proud,  majestic,  the 
central  figure  of  the  Kremlin.  The  peasants  re- 
gard it  with  reverential  awe,  and  when,  at  impor- 
tant festivals  of  the  Church,  its  huge  bell,  like  the 
discharge  of  artillery,  booms  over  the  plain,  they 


TOWER  OF  JOHN  THE  GRKAT 


MOSCOW  BELLS.  65 

listen  to  it  as  to  the  voice  of  God.  At  Easter  all 
the  bells  are  rung  in  unison,  making  the  earth 
tremble  and  burdening  the  air  with  their  rich 
volume  of  sound.  "  Christ  is  risen  !  "  thunders 
the  lowest  bell,  grand  and  solemn  as  a  call  to 
judgment.  "  Christ  is  risen  !  "  repeats  each  story 
with  its  peculiar  harmony  and  power.  "  Christ  is 
risen!"  echoes,  like  an  angel's  song,  from  the  sil- 
ver tongues  beneath  the  dome. 

Ah,  what  wild  music  must  the  bells  of  Moscow 
have  made  at  the  burning  of  the  city !  Rung  at 
first  in  dread  alarm,  and  then  as  the  town  was 
abandoned  to  its  fate,  answering  with  a  dull  sound 
the  stroke  of  falling  timbers,  and  at  the  crash  of 
the  steeples  plunging  with  weird,  woeful  knell  into 
the  fiery  death  below  I 

Russia,  through  its  whole  extent,  is  the  land  of 
bells.  Every  church  and  monastery  and  convent 
has  its  tower,  where  they  hang,  in  number  and  size 
proportioned  to  the  wealth  of  the  community.  The 
church  or  religious  house  is  the  most  attractive 
feature  of  the  landscape  in  northern  and  central 
Russia,  and  the  bells  are  the  life  and  joy  of  the 
parish.  Over  the  dark  forests,  across  the  dreary 
plains,  by  the  still  lakes,  along  the  winding  rivers, 


6t)  MOSCOW  BELLS. 

they  send  their  harmonious  peals,  gladdening  and 
elevating  the  soul.  The  peasant  crosses  himself  as 
he  listens,  and  believes  that  the  saints  are  near  and 
heaven  awaits  him  yonder. 

There  are  no  chimes,  however,  nor  are  the  bells 
rung  as  elsewhere  ;  they  are  stationary,  and  the 
tongue  is  struck  against  the  side,  —  the  larger  bells 
requiring  for  this  the  united  efforts  of  several  men. 
One  feast  morning,  in  Moscow,  we  saw  in  a  low, 
open  church-tower  a  man  ringing  half  a  dozen  bells 
at  once  by  ropes  in  his  hands  and  attached  to  his 
arms.  By  the  peculiar  tolling  of  the  larger  bells, 
and  the  clang  when  all  are  struck  together,  the 
worshippers  know  to  what  service  they  are  called 
and  when  it  will  begin.  Full  clashes  of  bells  often 
introduce  and  conclude  special  ceremonies  and  sol- 
emn moments  in  the  mass.  There  are  no  wedding 
peals  nor  tolling  bells  for  ordinary  funerals,  as  in 
many  places  with  us  ;  but  the  great  bell  tolls  when 
a  priest  dies,  and  all  are  rung  with  tremendous 
clamor  while  an  archbishop  enters  or  leaves  a  place 
in  his  diocese.  All  the  larger  bells  are  ornamented 
with  bas-reliefs,  with  arabesque  figures,  with  sacred 
texts,  and  with  an  inscription  relating  to  the  date 
of  their  casting  and  the  church  for  which  they  are 


MOSCOW  BELLS  67 

intended.  As  they  are  raised  to  the  belfry  they 
are  sprinkled  with  holy  water,  and  prayers  are  read 
and  hymns  sung  to  consecrate  them  to  their  office. 

Woe  to  the  souls  hovering  in  this  sky  of  the  north 
if  there  be  truth  in  the  Moslem  fancy  that  the  ring- 
ing of  bells  disturbs  their  repose  !  Over  the  land 
they  call  with  multitudinous  tongues,  and  the  chill, 
pure  air  vibrates  unceasingly  to  their  utterance  of 
pathos  or  of  power.     I  have  heard  — 

"  The  bells  of  Shandon 
That  sound  so  grand  on 
The  pleasant  waters  of  the  liirer  Lee;" 

the  curfew  from  the  towers  of  Canterbury;  the 
wondrous  bell  of  the  cathedral  at  Lyons,  and  those 
that  swing  in  the  sunny  campaniles  along  the  Medi- 
terranean ;  the  chimes  of  Burgos,  and  the  mourn- 
ful notes  from  the  belfries  of  the  old  Jesuit  missions 
in  California ;  but  as  I  write  their  tones  die  away, 
and  before  me  rise  the  domes  of  Russia  —  gold 
against  the  pale  azure  of  her  sky  —  while  from  their 
depths  resound  those  sonorous  peals  that  fill  the 
blue  vault  with  harmony  and  float  in  fainter  music 
to  the  far  horizon.  Nay,  were  I  to  frame  an  oath 
of  grand  and  melodious  sounds,  I  would  say,  By 
the  thunder  of  the  Kremlin  tower,  and  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  bells  of  Valdai ! 


TROITSA  MONASTERY. 


TROITSA  MONASTERY. 


O  sacred  Troitsa!  when  the  skies 

Of  morn  are  blue  I  lift  my  eyes 

To  see  again  in  azure  air 

Thy  starry  domes  and  turrets  fair, 

And  to  hear  from  thy  gray  cathedral  walls 

The  chanted  hymn  as  it  swells  and  falls. 

Then  with  the  pilgrim  train  I  wait 

And  enter,  glad,  thy  wide-flung  gate, 

To  drink  of  St.  Sergius'  holy  well 

That  heals  the  griefs  no  soul  may  tell, 

Or  kneel  with  them  at  his  wondrous  shrine, 

His  staff  and  his  simple  robe  beside,  — 
And  trace  on  my  breast  the  mystic  sign, 

And  pray  for  the  peace  of  the  glorified ! 

Then  fade  thy  towers ;  the  music  dies ; 
Above  me  are  my  native  skies, 
Blue  and  clear  in  the  August  morn, 
Over  the  pines  and  the  rustling  corn, 


72  TROTTSA  MONASTERY. 

With  a  song  from  brook  and  breeze  and  bird 
Sweet  as  the  hymn  in  thy  cloisters  heard,  — 
And  I  know  the  fields  are  a  shrine  as  fair, 
For  the  Lord  of  the  saints  is  here  as  there  I 

/^VNE  bright  morning  we  went  by  rail  from  Mos* 
cow  forty  miles  north  to  the  Troitsa  (Trinity) 
Monastery.  This  monastery,  founded  in  the  four- 
teenth century  by  the  devout  hermit  St.  Sergius,  is 
the  most  sacred  shrine  in  Russia.  The  first  struc- 
ture was  taken  and  destroyed  by  the  Mongols,  but 
it  was  at  once  built  up  again,  and  since,  though 
often  besieged,  neither  Tartars  nor  Poles  nor 
French  have  been  able  to  overcome  it ;  plague  and 
cholera  have  never  ventured  within  its  walls  ;  but, 
"  strong  in  the  Lord,"  it  has  been  the  refuge  of 
Czar  and  prince  in  time  of  trouble,  and  "  the  gates 
of  hell  (say  the  Russians)  could  not  prevail  against 
it."  The  way  thither  lies  through  the  great  color- 
less  plain  which  encircles  Moscow,  —  colorless  ex- 
cept for  the  fir  woods  and  the  occasional  grain  fields, 
—  and  as  the  train  moved  slowly  over  it,  stopping 
at  every  few  versts  for  relays  of  pilgrims,  it  was 
natural  to  think  of  the  vast  influence  this  and  kin- 
dred establishments  have  had  upon  the  nation. 
When  Vladimir  accepted  the  God  of  the  Greeks 


TROITSA  MONASTERY.  73 

priests  and  pictures  and  manuscripts  and  relics  were 
brought  at  once  from  Constantinople  and  Mount 
Athos  to  Kieff,  and  convents  and  monasteries  were 
founded  after  the  fashion  of  the  East.  Great  privi* 
leges  were  granted  to  the  priests,  and  even  under 
the  Tartar  conquerors  they  were  exempt  from  all 
tribute  and  service.  Enormous  sums  were  be 
queathed  to  them  that  the  givers  might  be  sure  oi 
salvation,  and  most  of  the  princes  of  the  race  of 
Rurik  clothed  themselves  for  death  in  the  monkish 
habit  that  they  might  be  at  once  received  to  heaven. 
Russia  was  filled  with  religious  houses — shrines 
for  the  devotion  of  a  simple,  superstitious  people  — 
and  the  inmates  wearing  the  black  robes  of  the 
Greeks,  and  inheriting  their  manners,  their  tradi- 
tions, and  their  pride,  looked,  and  look  to  this  day, 
with  a  patronizing,  half-contemptuous  air  upon  the 
secular  clergy  who  marry,  and  who  perform  all  the 
lowly,  social  offices  of  religion.  These  parish 
priests,  called  the  White  Clergy  to  distinguish 
them  from  the  Black  Clergy,  the  monks,  rarely 
receive  a  salary  of  more  than  three  hundred  ru- 
bles,—  usually  it  is  much  less, — and  were  it  not  for 
the  garden  and  field  attached  to  their  houses,  the 
gifts  they  receive  from  the  peasants,  and  the  small 


74  TROITSA  MONASTERY. 

fees  for  weddings,  baptisms,  and  sacrament  certifi- 
cates, their  lot  would  be  hard  indeed.  Yet  "  happy 
as  a  priest's  wife  "  is  a  proverb  here,  for  a  priest 
can  marry  but  once,  nor  can  a  widower  officiate,  so 
that  when  the  wife  dies  the  husband  must  drop 
back  into  the  world  or  take  monastic  vows.  (In- 
deed, for  all  Orthodox  Russians  only  the  first  mar- 
riage is  made  easy.  A  second  marriage  necessitates 
two  years  absence  from  Holy  Communion  ;  a  third, 
five  years ;  and  a  fourth  marriage  cannot  take 
place.  Not  the  Emperor  nor  the  Metropolitan  can 
authorize  the  latter.)  The  high  officers  of  the 
Church,  the  bishops,  the  archbishops,  the  metro- 
politans, are  almost  without  exception  taken  from 
the  Black  Clergy;  and  the  Holy  Synod  in  which 
the  Patriarchate  was  merged  by  Peter  the  Great, 
consists  of  twelve  of  these  dignitaries  presided  over 
by  the  Metropolitan  of  St.  Petersburg.  This  synod 
decides  all  ecclesiastical  questions,  but  the  Emperor, 
as  head  of  the  Church,  must  sanction  their  decrees 
before  they  are  valid.  It  is  monks  who  instruct 
the  priests  in  theology,  and  who  are  the  directors 
and  inspectors  of  academies  and  colleges  and  uni- 
versities. There  has  long  been  dissatisfaction  on 
the  part  of  the  priests  at  their  subordinate  position. 


PHILARET,  LATE  METROPOLITAN  OF  MOSCOW  AND 
ARCHIMANDRITE  OK  TROITSA. 


TROITSA  MONASTERY.  75 

Dut  the  system  has  remained  unchanged  because 
nothing  could  be  published  about  Church  matters 
which  had  not  been  approved  by  the  bishop  of  the 
diocese.  Under  Alexander  II.,  however,  there  is 
far  more  liberty  of  opinion  and  expression,  and  it  is 
evident  that  his  sympathies  are  with  the  six  hun- 
dred thousand  parish  priests,  rather  than  with  the 
ten  thousand  monks.  Two  years  ago,  when  Phila- 
ret,  Metropolitan  of  Moscow,  died,  he  appointed  to 
the  place  Innocent,  a  priest  who  had  become  emi- 
nent by  his  labors  in  Siberia,  and  who,  though  his 
wife  was  dead,  refused  to  become  a  monk,  declaring 
that  it  Avas  "  a  custom  rather  than  a  canon  of  the 
Church."  The  monks  were  horrified,  but  the  more 
intelligent  among  the  people  applauded.  Since 
then  another  married  priest  has  been  made  rector 
of  the  Ecclesiastical  Academy  of  St.  Petersburg. 
As  in  the  Latin  Church,  the  rule  of  the  monks 
begins  to  wane. 

But,  through  the  belief  in  miracles  entertained 
by  the  masses  of  the  people,  and  a  reverence  foi 
that  spirit  of  renunciation  which  is  supposed  to  in 
duce  men  to  make  their  home  in  the  cloister  and 
the  desert,  the  monasteries  are  still  stately  and  rich 
and  strong.     The  largest  have  a  yearly  income  of 


76  TROITSA  MONASTERY. 

half  a  million  rubles  derived  from  the  state,  from 
their  mills  and  gardens  and  fisheries,  and  still  more 
from  the  public.  Great  sums  are  paid  them  for  the 
privilege  of  burial  within  the  walls,  for  masses  said 
in  remembrance  of  the  dead,  and  for  intercessory 
prayers  for  the  living.  Over  a  certain  extent  of 
the  country  about  them  they  have  the  right  of 
soliciting  alms  and  of  putting  up  boxes  to  receive 
contributions.  In  every  station  of  the  Moscow  and 
St.  Petersburg  railway  there  is  a  box  belonging  to 
the  Troitsa  monastery,  and  its  income  from  this 
source  has  reached  two  hundred  thousand  rubles. 
To  the  monasteries  belong  most  of  the  famous  relics 
and  miracle-working  pictures;  they  are,  therefore, 
the  resort  of  numberless  pilgrims,  who  bring  gifts  or 
purchase  something  made  by  the  monks  —  a  cross, 
a  carved  spoon,  tapers,  and  loaves  of  bread  stamped 
with  a  sacred  text.  They  gain  much  money  also 
for  the  loan  of  these  venerated  pictures  to  a  city 
where  an  epidemic  prevails,  or  even  to  private 
families  in  which  there  is  severe  sickness.  It  is 
said  that  in  Moscow,  during  the  last  cholera  visita- 
tion, one  such  picture  obtained  nearly  thirty  thou- 
sand rubles.  There  are  no  Mendicant  Friars  in 
Russia.     All  the  monks  have  a  life  of  comfort  if  no* 


TROITSA  MONASTERY.  77 

of  ease,  and  to  many  of  the  monasteries  villas  are 
attached  where  the  superiors,  and  perhaps  the 
whole  body,  pass  the  summer. 

A  gleam  of  domes  on  a  high  plateau ;  a  sharp 
outline  of  towers  against  the  sky ;  and  Troitsa  rose 
before  us,  a  second  Kremlin,  lordly  in  the  illimit- 
able waste. 

Leaving  the  train  we  found  ourselves  in  the 
midst  of  a  throng  of  pilgrims  setting  towards  the 
gates  —  the  counterpart  of  those  devout  Russians 
whom,  a  few  months  before,  we  had  seen  at  the 
shrines  of  the  Holy  Land  ;  old  men  with  flowing 
beards  and  leaning  on  staves,  some  well  attired, 
some  in  rags,  but  all  apparently  forgetful  of  every- 
thing but  the  sanctuary  they  approached  ;  women 
with  the  same  meek  faces  their  sisters  bore  to 
Bethlehem  and  to  the  sepulchre,  and  in  whose 
coarse  pelisses  and  dark  handkerchiefs  tied  beneath 
the  chin,  not  the  least  vanity  or  coquetry  could  be 
discerned.  Crossing  themselves,  they  passed  under 
the  arch  ;  the  strangers  from  the  West  followed, 
and  all  were  within  the  sacred  inclosure. 

The  massive  walls  of  Troitsa  are  nearly  a  mile 
in  circumference,  and   surmounted  by  a  cloistered 


78  TROITSA  MONASTERY. 

walk,  with  towers  at  their  eight  angles.  Within 
their  circuit,  besides  the  buildings  of  the  mon- 
astery proper,  there  are  ten  churches,  the  prin 
cipal  of  which  is  the  cathedral,  where  lies  St 
Sergius  shrined  in  massive  silver.  Service  was 
progressing  there,  and  we  made  our  way  to  the 
door,  but  could  hardly  enter  for  the  crowd  —  a 
crowd  as  dense  and  varied  in  character  as  that 
which  fills  the  Cathedral  of  the  Assumption  at 
Moscow.  The  chants  and  the  responses  of  the 
priests  came  faintly  down  to  us  from  the  altar, 
and  the  fragrant  incense  was  lost  in  the  vile  odor 
of  sheep-skins  and  leather  and  cabbage  exhaled  by 
the  peasants,  among  whom  we  were  wedged.  Re- 
treating, we  gained  the  open  court  again,  and  sat 
down  upon  the  steps  of  one  of  the  churches  where 
we  could  command  a  view  of  the  whole  scene. 

O,  the  wondrous  beauty  of  the  domes  !  I  had 
been  enchanted  with  their  Oriental  form  and  color 
from  our  first  sight  of  Russia,  but  here  they  were 
transfigured,  and,  blue,  with  golden  stars,  they 
lifted  themselves  above  the  towers  and  spires,  and 
lay  against  the  clear,  soft  sky,  like  azure  blossoms 
unfolding  in  ethereal  air.  Their  loveliness  enrap- 
tured me,  lifted   me   heavenward  like  a  burst  of 


TROITSA  MONASTERY.  79 

soul-stirring  music  at  midnight  —  like  the  first  per- 
fect day  of  spring,  when  all  the  buds  are  swelling, 
and  blue-birds  sway  and  sing  in  the  elms  —  and  it 
seemed  as  though  any  prayer  uttered  within  their 
charmed  circle  would  be  granted.  When  I  think 
of  the  New  Jerusalem,  its  temples  rise  with 
domes  like  those  of  Troitsa  that  summer  morn- 
ing! 

Presently  service  was  over  and  forth  came  the 
worshippers.  Some  of  them  were  evidently  peo- 
ple of  high  degree,  but  by  far  the  larger  number 
were  the  poorest  of  the  poor  —  peasants  and  men- 
dicants who  had,  perhaps,  begged  their  way  from 
the  remotest  provinces  of  the  empire  to  gain  the 
blessing  of  the  Saint.  A  Russian  devotee  of  the 
extremest  class  is  twin  brother  to  a  dervish.  lie 
may  be  more  sincere  and  earnest  in  his  nobler 
faith  than  the  Mohammedan  ;  but,  in  his  filthy 
rags,  in  his  ignorant  and  slavish  adherence  to 
forms  and  traditions,  and  in  the  glory  he  esteems 
it  to  scorn  all  worldly  decencies  and  delights,  he 
is  the  same.  As  I  looked  about  and  saw  these 
abject  creatures  prostrating  themselves,  making  the 
sicm  of  the  cross  and  drinking  the  water  of  the 
holy  well    discovered    by  St.   Sergius,  as  if   each 


80  TROITSA  MONASTERY. 

drop  were  an  assurance  of  salvation,  I  thought, 
should  a  being  from  a  loftier  sphere  poise  himself 
in  the  blue  above  and  watch  them  at  their  devo- 
tions, and  then  wing  his  flight  to  Mecca  and  see 
the  ceremonies  around  the  Caaba  and  the  well 
Zem-Zem,  he  would  be  at  a  loss  which  to  con- 
demn most  deeply  for  fanaticism  and  superstition. 
Yet,  so  reverent  were  they  in  feature  and  atti- 
tude, so  apparently  forgetful  of  all  but  God  and 
the  shrine,  that  the  pity  with  which  I  regarded 
them  was  mingled  with  sympathetic  admiration. 
Perhaps  the  Mongol  Khan  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, whom  St.  Louis  of  France  hoped  to  convert 
to  Christianity  through  the  agency  of  his  monk, 
Rubruquis,  had  seen  religion  take  this  questionable 
shape  among  his  Western  neighbors,  and  it  was 
therefore  he  replied  to  the  envoy  :  "  The  Mongols 
are  not  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  a  God,  and 
they  love  Him  with  all  their  hearts.  There  are- 
as many  and  more  ways  of  being  saved  than  there 
are  fingers  on  your  hands.  If  God  has  given  you 
the  Bible,  he  has  given  us  the  Magi.  Do  you  go 
your  way  and  we  will  go  ours." 

After  visiting  the  sacristy,  which  is  only  inferior 
in  treasures  to  that  of  Moscow,  and  ascending  the 


■£^<HS1SsKb2_i  ^^^ 


A  MENDICANT 


TR01TSA  MONASTERY.  81 

tower  to  see  the  huge  bell  that  could  almost  sum- 
mon  the  province  to  prayer ;  after  quaffing  the  clear 
water  of  the  moss-grown  well,  and  filling  our  hands 
with  the  little  articles  which  the  monks  made  haste 
to  sell  and  the  pilgrims  to  buy;  with  lingering  looks 
at  the  domes,  we  passed  under  the  arched  gateway 
and  trod  again  on  common  ground. 

At  a  little  distance  from  the  monastery,  and  on 
the  borders  of  a  still,  dark  lake,  is  the  Convent  of 
Gethsemane,  and  near  it  are  catacombs  for  the  her- 
mits of  the  Church.  We  drove  thither  through  the 
fir  woods  and  found  the  convent  a  plain  log  struc- 
ture under  the  strictest  rule. 

Could  it  be  that  this  forest  was  the  home  of  an- 
chorites ?  We  asked  to  see  their  subterranean 
abodes,  and  forthwith  a  monk,  giving  each  of  us  a 
lighted  taper,  and  crossing  himself  and  repeating 
some  form  of  prayer,  opened  a  small  door  and  beck- 
oned us  to  follow  him  down  the  dark  stairs  beyond. 
If  it  were  not  that  before  me  lies  the  half  consumed 
taper  which  I  brought  away  as  a  memento,  the 
whole  would  seem  to  me  now  like  a  feverish  dream. 
On  we  went  till  we  reached  a  gallery  lower  than 
the  lake,  and  where  the  walls  were  wet  with  its 

unwholesome  damp.     Out  of  it  opened  doors  bound 
6 


82  TROITSA  MONASTERY. 

with  iron  bands,  and  above  them  small  grated  win- 
dows —  the  doors  and  windows  of  cells.  At  its 
extremity  was  a  small  chapel  finished  with  brass. 
Daily  service  is  held  here,  but  it  was  then  over  and 
the  lamp  burned  dimly  before  the  solitary  shrine. 

Beside  the  chapel  was  a  miraculous  well.  The 
monk  stooped  down,  and  dipping  up  some  of  the 
water  gave  it  to  us  to  taste  as  if  it  had  been  a  cup 
of  nectar.  The  only  miracle  about  it  is  that  in  that 
low,  saturated  soil  the  water  does  not  rise  and  drown 
chapel  and  hermit  together. 

As  we  turned  back,  we  asked  to  see  one  of  the 
cells.  The  monk  replied  that  there  was  one  which 
its  occupant  had  left  for  an  hour,  and,  crossing  him- 
self, he  undid  the  fastenings  and  bid  us  enter.  It 
was  a  tomb  in  shape  and  size.  A  narrow  slab  with 
a  dark  blanket  on  it  served  for  a  bed.  In  one  cor- 
ner was  an  image  of  the  Virgin  with  a  small  lamp 
burnino-  before  it.  On  a  shelf  against  the  wall  lay 
an  old  leather-covered  book  that  looked  as  though 
it  inio-ht  have  come  with  the  first  monk  from  Mount 
Athos,  and  beside  it  hung  a  coarse  black  robe. 
All  that  indicated  comfort  was  a  tiny  stove  with  a 
little  pile  of  wood,  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  "What 
would   the  early  recluses   of  Kieff  have  said   to  a 


TROITSA  MONASTERY.  83 

stove  ?  This  poor  furniture  left  just  room  enough 
to  turn  in,  and  the  air  was  so  heavy  and  sickly 
that  the  lamp  burned  blue,  and  breathing  was 
difficult.  Yet  here  a  man,  made  in  the  image  of 
God,  had  immured  himself,  and  was  slowly  com- 
mitting suicide  that  he  might  win  heaven  ! 

Faint,  from  that  atmosphere  of  the  grave,  we 
hastened  to  the  upper  day.  Plow  glorious  seemed 
the  soft  blue  sky  and  the  sun  flooding  with  his 
golden  beams  the  still  lake  and  the  fir  woods,  where 
a  light  wind  made  music  with  the  boughs  !  Ah, 
thought  I,  if  Christ,  in  whose  name  this  monstrous 
service  is  rendered,  could  walk  the  earth  again, 
how  would  He  knock  at  that  iron  door  and  cry, 
"  Come  forth,  O  thou  that  art  as  dead  !  Neither 
in  dungeons  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem  shall  ye  wor- 
ship the  Father,  but  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  Away 
with  this  mockery  of  holiness,  and  take  thy  place 
among  his  nobler  saints  in  the  bright,  working 
world  1  " 


THE  FAIR   OF  NIJNI. 


THE  FAIR  OF  NIJNL 


Now,  by  the  Tower  of  Babel ! 

Was  ever  such  a  crowd  V 
Here  Turks  and  Jews  and  Gypsies, 

There  Persians  haughty-browed ; 
With  silken-robed  Celestials, 

And  Frenchmen  from  the  Seine, 
And  Khivans  and  Bokhariotes  — 

Heirs  of  the  Oxus  plain. 

Here  stalk  Siberian  hunters ; 

There  tents  a  Kirghiz  clan 
By  mournful-eyed  Armenians 

From  wave-girt  Astrakhan ; 
And  Russ  and  Pole  and  Tartar, 

And  mounted  Cossack  proud  — 
Now,  by  the  Tower  of  Babel ! 

Was  ever  such  a  crowd  ? 

"VTEARS  ago,  when  there  was  but  a  post-road 
from    Moscow   to   Nijni  Novgorod,  encamp- 
ments of  Cossacks  were  stationed  all  the  way  to 


88  THE  FAIR   OF  NIJNI. 

protect  merchants,  going  to  and  fro,  from  robbers 
and  wolves.  Now  the  train  moves  swiftly  and 
quietly  to  its  destination,  and  the  brigands  have  fled 
to  the  provinces  beyond  the  Volga,  where  as  yet 
the  whistle  of  the  engine  is  unheard. 

The  great  Fair  had  been  open  for  a  fortnight, 
when,  by  the  night  express,  we  left  Moscow  to  visit 
it.  The  cars  were  filled  with  people  journeying 
thither  —  traders  and  sight-seers  from  various  lands. 
The  only  town  of  importance  through  which  we 
passed  was  Vladimir ;  but  in  the  darker  night  of 
the  waning  summer  we  only  saw  its  lofty  cathedral 
tower,  dim  against  the  northern  sky.  The  region 
is  one  of  the  richest  agricultural  districts  in  Russia, 
but  there  was  the  same  monotonous  level  until,  at 
ten  o'clock  the  next  morning,  Nijni  rose  before  us, 
crowning  with  its  Kremlin  a  bold  bluff  at  the  con- 
fluence of  the  Volga  and  the  Oka  —  a  bluff  that 
seemed  a  mountain  after  the  flatness  of  the  plain. 

From  the  station  we  drove  at  once  to  the  Hotel 
Russie,  in  the  old  town,  where  we  had  fortunately 
secured  rooms  a  week  previous.  This  large  hotel 
was  a  fair  in  itself.  The  first  floor  opened  on  to 
the  street,  where  a  throng  of  vehicles  of  all  sorts 
was  constantly  arriving  and  departing.     The  next 


THE  FAIR  OF  NIJNI.  89 

floor  was  given  up  to  dining-rooms,  in  which  you 
might  see  all  the  costumes  and  hear  all  the  lan- 
guages of  Europe.  Here,  too,  was  an  apartment 
where  tanks  of  running  water,  bordered  bv  grow- 
ing  ferns  and  flowers,  were  filled  with  the  famous 
sterlet  of  the  Volga,  swimming  at  ease,  and  ready 
to  be  served  up  at  any  moment  to  the  epicurean 
guest.  This  fish  is  a  small  species  of  sturgeon, 
more  delicate  than  the  salmon  in  tint  and  flavor, 
and  sent  from  its  native  rivers  to  all  the  cities  of  the 
Continent.  Above  were  the  bed-chambers  with 
floors  of  wood  or  of  brick  ;  uncarpeted,  but  airy 
and  comfortable. 

Breakfast  over,  we  walked  up  the  steep,  narrow 
ravine  behind  the  house  to  the  top  of  the  bluff. 
Here  is  the  old  town.  At  our  right  was  the  Kremlin 
with  its  massive  white-washed  walls,  thirty  feet  in 
height,  within  which  are  the  arsenal,  the  barracks, 
the  governor's  house,  and  the  cathedral  where 
lies  buried  Minin,  the  peasant  patriot  of  Nijni,  who 
early  in  the  seventeenth  century  roused  Russia  to 
free  herself  from  the  Poles.  Two  hundred  yeai*s 
later,  during  the  French  invasion,  his  battle-flag 
was  unfurled  again  and  carried  at  the  head  of  the 
army  to  inspire  the  people.     His  name  is  still  a 


90  THE  FAIR   OF  NIJNI. 

watchword  of  loyalty.  A  noble  obelisk  stands  here 
to  perpetuate  his  fame,  and  the  finest  monument  of 
Moscow,  modeled  in  enduring  bronze,  represents 
him  clad  in  his  peasant's  blouse,  standing  in  a  com- 
manding attitude  and  calling  upon  Prince  Pojarski 
to  rise  and  go  forth  with  him  for  the  redemption  of 
their  common  country. 

At  the  foot  of  the  bluff  was  modern  Nijni,  crowd- 
ing up  to  the  Oka,  here  as  large  as  the  Volga,  and 
so  covered  with  all  sorts  of  craft  that  it  seemed  but 
an  extension  of  the  town.  Across  it  was  a  bridge 
of  boats  leading  to  the  tongue  of  land  between  the 
two  rivers  on  which  are  the  streets  of  shops  and 
bazaars  that  make  up  the  city  of  the  Fair.  Beyond 
were  the  broad  meadows,  dotted  with  hay-stacks 
and  stretching  away  to  the  horizon  —  a  great  allu- 
vial plain  enriched  by  the  yearly  inundations  of  the 
Volga,  which  rolls  its  royal  tide  through  their  midst, 
and  deigns  to  receive  the  Oka,  on  its  way  to  the 
Caspian.  For  natural  beauty  there  is  no  such  view 
in  Northern  and  Central  Russia  as  this  from  the 
Kremlin  of  Nijni.  Below  us  were  the  hurrying 
crowds  of  two  continents  ;  and  taking  a  last  look 
at  the  striking  landscape,  we  descended  to  mingle 
with  them  and  see  the  interior  of  this  gigantic  ex- 
change. 


THE  FAIR  OF  NIJNL  91 

Since  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  a  fair 
has  been  held  at  Nijni,  or  in  the  neighborhood. 
For  some  time  it  was  fixed  at  Makarief,  a  place 
farther  down  the  Volga,  and  it  is  still  known  to  the 
Central  Asiatics  as  the  Fair  of  Makaria.  The  pro- 
ductions of  the  West  come  here  by  railway  ;  those 
of  the  East  by  the  old  channels  of  sledge  and  barge 
and  caravan  —  indeed,  some  Asiatic  travellers 
spend  all  the  rest  of  the  year  in  going  to  and  fro. 
Nijni  of  itself  has  some  forty  thousand  inhabitants. 
During  the  Fair  it  often  counts  two  hundred  thou- 
sand. The  number  present  at  any  one  time  is  still 
calculated  by  the  amount  of  bread  sold  by  the 
bakers,  and  perhaps  a  million  different  persons  visit 
it  during  the  two  months  of  its  continuance;  while 
goods  to  the  value  of  a  hundred  millions  of  rubles 
are  bought  and  sold.  Under  Alexander  I.,  the  low, 
marshy  point  of  land  between  the  two  rivers  was 
prepared  for  building  with  as  much  care  as  was  the 
swamp  of  the  Neva  for  the  erection  of  St.  Peters- 
burg. Beneath  each  street  is  a  great  sewer  built  ot 
stone  and  cleansed  several  times  a  day  by  streams 
of  water  from  the  river.  At  regular  intervals  are 
small  white  towers  containing  staircases  for  descent 
into  tl*e  sewers,  which  are  under  the  care  of  Cos- 


92  THE  FAIR  OF  NIJNI. 

sacks.  Around  all  is  a  canal,  and,  for  further  secu- 
rity against  fire,  a  fine  of  twenty-five  rubles  is 
imposed  for  smoking  anywhere  except  in  these 
underground  apartments.  Along  the  streets  are 
the  bazaars  containing  several  thousand  stalls  filled 
with  the  lighter  and  more  fanciful  articles  of  mer- 
chandise, while  the  heavy  goods  are  disposed  in 
sheds  and  booths,  or  on  boats  and  barges,  or  heaped 
upon  matting  on  the  ground. 

At  the  door  of  the  hotel  we  took  droskies  for  the 
Fair,  a  mile  away.  The  street  was  filled  with  peo- 
ple on  foot,  and  with  carriages  and  drays  and  carts 
of  every  description  going  back  and  forth  ;  and  as 
we  whirled  down  the  steep  slope  that  leads  to  the 
bridge  over  the  Oka,  the  crowd  was  so  great,  that 
it  was  with  difficulty  we  could  make  our  way. 
Cossacks,  as  mounted  police,  with  flashing  eyes,  and 
fiery  horses  which  they  sat  like  centaurs,  were  rid- 
ing up  and  down ;  and,  what  with  the  strange  cos- 
tumes and  languages,  the  blinding  dust  which  the 
rising  wind  swept  through  the  air,  and  the  hum 
from  the  boats  on  the  river,  we  began  to  under- 
stand what  is  meant  by  the  Fair  of  Nijni. 

Opposite  the  bridge  and  in  the  centre  of  the 
bazaar,  is  the  house  occupied  by  the  governor  dur- 


THE  FAIR  OF  NIJNI.  93 

ing  the  Fair.  From  its  top  floated  the  Russian  flag, 
while  from  the  small  church  near,  built  by  the 
merchants  to  commemorate  the  Czar's  escape  from 
the  murderer  KarokozofF,  waved  the  Oriental 
banners  of  the  Fair  proper.  Beneath  the  gov 
ernor's  house  we  entered  the  bazaars,  the  first  de- 
voted mainly  to  articles  of  dress  and  personal 
adornment.  Here,  each  in  his  stall  filled  with 
shelves  and  cases  covered  with  glass,  the  traders 
displayed  their  wares.  First  were  Russians  from 
beyond  the  Oural  with  various  stones  cut  at  the 
Works  at  Ekaterineburg,  or  by  the  artisans  at  their 
homes  with  a  foot-lathe,  in  the  evenings  or  on  holi- 
days ;  brooches  and  buttons  and  seals  of  perfect 
malachite,  that  vivid  green  overspread  with  mys- 
terious figures  which  made  it  the  favorite  amulet  of 
antiquity ;  crystals  of  amethyst,  violet  enough  to 
be  still  a  charm  against  wine ;  and  of  aqua-marine, 
with  a  clear  sea  tint  in  shade  or  sun  ;  and  of  topaz, 
from  the  pale  yellow  to  the  orange-brown ; — beauti- 
ful gems  which  it  is  a  shame  for  fashion  to  discard 
—  and  rose  tourmalines,  fair  enough  to  be  set  in 
diamonds ;  and  pure  white  crystals,  cut  into  globes 
for  necklaces,  or  wrought  into  twelve-sided  seals 
engraved  with  the  signs  of  the  zodiac  ;  transparent 


94  THE  FAIR   OF  NIJNI. 

as  the  cups  the  luxurious  Roman  emperors  brought 
from  India  to  be  used  on  their  feast-days,  and  cool 
as  the  balls  these  same  voluptuaries  gave  the  dainty 
Lollias  and  Julias  to  hold  in  their  hands  during  the 
heats  of  summer ;  and,  rarest  of  all,  paper-weights 
where  upon  a  base  of  jasper  were  grouped  the  half- 
precious  stones  of  Siberia,  fashioned  into  fruit  and 
leaves.  Near  by  were  men  of  Khorassan  and 
Bokhara  with  ornaments  and  slender  bars  of  lapis- 
lazuli,  and  turquoises  from  the  old  mine  of  Nisha- 
pur  stuck  by  the  dozen  into  rolls  of  wax  ;  while 
over  against  them  stood  Prussians  from  the  Baltic 
with  amber  for  the  Chinese  to  burn  as  fragrant  in- 
cense before  their  gods.  Then  came  Persians  from 
the  south  shore  of  the  Caspian,  displaying  carpets 
and  shawls  and  cashmeres  —  handsome,  dark- 
bearded  men  clad  in  caftans  of  their  own  silk 
trimmed  Avith  gilt  bands,  and  speaking  French 
with  ease  to  Europeans.  From  some  of  the  stalls 
Armenians  looked  out  with  sad,  and  Jews  with 
eager  eyes ;  while,  beyond,  were  men  of  every  race 
between  Nijni  and  the  Atlantic,  with  the  varied 
fabrics  and  small  wares  of  their  respective  coun- 
tries. 

Of  course   Russian    manufactures    were    in   the 


THE  FAIR  OF  NIJNI.  95 

ascendant.  Here  were  piles  of  the  silks  and  satins 
and  tissues  of  Moscow,  some  of  them  woven  with 
gold  and  silver  threads  to  suit  the  markets  of  the 
East,  and  heaps  of  printed  cloths,  gay-colored,  for 
the  same  buyers ;  elegant  articles  of  silver  and  of 
leather ;  cutlery  from  Tula,  and  stores  of  samovara 
(tea-urns),  which  no  family,  however  poor,  can  do 
without ;  wooden  trunks  bound  with  bands  of  brass 
or  iron,  the  bureau  of  the  peasant  and  the  recepta- 
cle for  the  humble  trousseau  of  the  bride  on  her 
wedding-day ;  while  among  heavier  things  were 
stacks  of  boxes  filled  with  beet-root  sugar  from  cen- 
tral  Russia,  and  long  lines  of  kegs  of  caviare  from 
the  sturgeon  fisheries  of  the  Volga,  the  Kama,  and 
the  Oural. 

Many  of  the  Russian  merchants  here  belonged 
ibrmerly  to  the  serf  class,  and  by  law  the  credit 
allowed  them  was  limited  to  five  rubles,  but,  on 
the  security  of  their  word  alone,  large  sums  were 
annually  intrusted  to  them,  for  which  they  were 
expected  to  make  large  returns.  Now,  thanks  to 
the  enlightened  wisdom  of  the  present  Emperor, 
they  trade  in  their  own  right,  and  pay  tribute  to  no 
master.  Some  of  them  were  men  of  noble  mien 
and  of  rare  business  ability,  able  to  hold  high  place 
in  any  commercial  centre  of  the  world. 


96  TEE  FAIR  OF  NIJNI. 

To  this  Fair  crowd  all  the  light  trades  and  pro- 
fessions, —  theatrical  companies,  bands  of  Tyrolese 
and  Gypsies,  fortune-tellers,  showmen  of  every 
kind,  peddlers,  beggars  by  the  hundred,  from  the 
black-robed  monk  soliciting  alms  for  his  monastery 
in  the  name  of  St.  George  or  St.  Sergius,  to  the 
wretched  creature  in  tattered  sheep-skin,  who  puts 
out  his  withered  hand  for  a  kopeck.  Beyond  the 
bazaars  are  restaurants,  concert  and  dancing  halls, 
rooms  of  meeting  for  merchants,  and  a  multitude 
of  small  inns  and  tea-houses. 

What  we  saw  of  the  Fair  at  our  first  visit  be- 
longed largely  to  Europe.  The  next  day  we  went 
farther,  and  found  Asia. 


ASIA  AT  NIJNL 


ASIA  AT  NIJNI. 


Give  me  that  melon  of  Khiva, 

Luscious  and  round  and  fair ;  — 
Its  mate  for  the  Lord  of  China 

Across  the  steppes  they  bear  — 
And  place  on  the  tray  beside  it, 

Worthy  of  sheikh  or  khan, 
Peaches  that  grew  in  the  gardens 

Of  the  golden  Zerefshan. 

And  a  cup  of  Flowery  Pekoe  — 

Tea  of  the  mandarins  — 
Gathered  in  dewy  morning, 

Just  when  the  spring  begins. 
(Keep  for  the  peasant  and  Tartar, 

The  bowls  of  the  dark  Bohea 
Plucked  when  the  heats  of  summer 

With  rank  leaves  load  the  tree.) 

Ah,  what  ravishing  flavors  ! 

Not  the  wine  of  the  Rhine, 
Not  of  Tokay,  nor  the  nectar 

Won  from  the  Cyprian  vine, 


100  ASIA  AT  NIJNI. 

Nor  Sicily's  oranges  rarest, 

Nor  sweetest  figs  of  Dalmatia, 
Rival  the  Flowery  Pekoe 

And  the  spicy  melons  of  Asia  ! 

ri^HE  most  important  article  of  merchandise  at 
Nijni  is  tea.  Of  the  fifteen  million  pounds  of  fine 
quality  brought  to  Russia  through  Kiachta,  some 
goes  direct  to  Moscow,  but  the  larger  part  finds  its 
way  to  the  Fair,  whence  it  is  distributed  over  the 
empire.  Piled  up  in  the  warehouses  were  thou- 
sands of  packages  about  two  feet  square — frames 
covered  with  skins  in  which  the  precious  contents 
had  come  securely  on  boats  and  camels  and  sledges 
to  Perm,  and  thence  down  the  Kama  and  up  the 
Volga  to  Nijni. 

Over  the  whole  Russian  Empire  and  Central 
Asia  tea  is  the  universal  drink  and  luxury.  Here 
was  the  delicate  green  tea  for  the  dainty  Moslems 
of  the  cities  who  would  sip  it  in  the  booths,  between 
their  prayers,  and  when  the  effusion  was  exhausted, 
eat  the  leaves,  holding  them  between  the  thumb 
and  finger ;  and  brick  tea  for  the  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  for  the  Kirghiz  and  Kalmuck  rovers  of  the 
steppe  —  the  refuse  of  the  tea-crop,  pressed  into 
solid  cakes,  and  in  the  towns  mixed  with  milk  and 


ASIA  AT  NIJNI.  101 

drank  from  bowls  into  which  bread  is  dipped  the 
while,  and  in  the  nomad  yourts  boiled  in  great  caul- 
drons and  seasoned  with  mutton  fat  and  salt  .and 
parched  millet,  or  whatever  the  inmates  may  have 
to  make  it  more  nutritious  ;  while  if  they  be  Kal- 
mucks, before  any  of  the  family  fills  his  Chinese 
wooden  bowl  a  spoonful  or  two  will  be  thrown  to 
the  four  winds  for  the  gods.  Then  there  was  the 
great  bulk  of  teas  for  Russia  proper,  —  those  pure 
black  teas  raised  in  northern  China  and  brought 
fresh  and  unimpaired  to  the  market ;  teas  some  of 
which  are  sold  at  twelve  rubles  the  pound ;  almost 
colorless  when  drawn,  but  possessing  an  exquisite 
flavor  and  bouquet,  and  stirring  the  blood  like  wine. 
Here,  too,  was  rhubarb,  of  which  China  sends  an- 
nually through  Kiachta  some  half  million  pounds ; 
and  silk  in  curious  bales,  and  robes  embroidered  in 
brilliant  hues.  But  few  Chinese  merchants  were 
seen,  Russians  and  Tartars  saving  them  the  long 
journey. 

Next  to  tea  the  most  important  article  of  traffic 
here  is  the  iron  of  Siberia.  Under  a  mile-long  gal- 
lery  by  the  river,  and  even  upon  a  sand-bank  which 
the  falling  waters  had  left  bare,  it  was  heaped  up 
in  every  form   from  solid  bars  and  sheets  and  rails 


102  ASIA  AT  NUM. 

to  cauldrons  for  the  wandering  tribes,  and  sniail 
household  utensils  for  the  cabins  of  the  peasants. 
Still  skirting  the  river  were  warehouses  filled  with 
cotton ;  pyramids  of  mill-stones  from  the  Oural  ; 
great  piles  of  rags  collected  from  every  quarter  for 
the  paper-makers  (think  what  the  rags  of  eastern 
Europe  and  Asia  must  be  !)  ;  with  hides  from  the 
steppes,  and  grain  from  the  productive  fields  of  the 
South. 

Most  attractive  was  the  store  of  furs,  from  the 
coarse,  despised  wolf-skin  which  you  could  buy  for 
a  handful  of  kopeks,  to  the  tiny,  fine,  glossy  sable, 
trophy  of  the  skill  and  daring  of  some  native  hun- 
ter on  Lake  Baikal  or  the  Amoor  ;  valued  now  at 
two  hundred  rubles  and  likely  to  be  purchased  to 
deck  the  robe  of  some  proud  Osmanli  at  Constan- 
tinople,—  for  sables,  like  diamonds,  are  prized  the 
world  over,  and  captivate  alike  the  Chinese  manda- 
rin, the  Turkish  pasha,  the  European  prince,  and 
the  luxurious  American.  Near  to  these  were  felts 
both  fine  and  coarse,  for  hats  and  blankets  and  win- 
ter boots  ;  and  rugs  of  Siberian  wool  for  carpets  and 
sledge-covers.  At  a  little  distance  a  broad  space 
was  covered  with  timber  from  beyond  the  Oural, 
jvhich  had  floated  hither  in  rafts  and  barges  ;  and, 


ASIA  AT  NUN  I.  103 

close  to  the  water,  lying  in  piles  on  the  ground  or 
waiting  to  be  removed  from  the  boats,  were  tons  of 
dried  fish  from  the  Caspian  and  the  lower  Volga  — 
principal  food  of  the  poorer  classes  during  the 
Church  fasts  which  occupy  one  third  of  the  year. 

A  large  and  growing  trade  with  Khiva,  Bokhara, 
and  Khokand  centres  at  Nijni.  Peter  the  Great 
saw  the  importance  of  these  oases  in  the  Tartar 
desert,  and  opened  roads  from  the  lower  Volga  to 
the  Oxus  which  remain  in  use  to  this  day.  From 
five  to  six  thousand  camels  are  employed  in  the 
caravans  which  leave  Bokhara  during  the  spring  for 
different  points  on  the  Russian  frontier,  especially 
Orenburg  distant  eleven  hundred  miles,  and  where 
they  arrive  in  two  months'  time.  From  thence 
their  goods  are  transported  to  the  Volga,  by  which 
they  reach  Nijni. 

And  what  do  they  bring  to  the  Slavonian  mart, 
these  Moslems  of  "  the  noble  Bokhara  "  and  its 
sister  states  ? 

Wheat  and  barley  and  rice  from  their  irrigated 
fields  ;  silk  and  cotton  in  bales,  the  latter  of  fine 
quality  but  not  wholly  free  from  seeds,  which  are 
laboriously  separated  from  the  fibre  by  the  finger? 
of  the  women  ;  sheep-skins  and  countless  bales  of 


104  ASIA   AT  NIJNI. 

wool,  both  of  goats  and  of  sheep ;  the  jet-black, 
curly  lamb-skins  of  Karakool  which  are  only  pro- 
duced in  a  small  territory  between  Bokhara  and 
the  Oxus,  and  which,  like  rare  furs,  always  com- 
mand their  price  in  gold.  The  handsomest  go  to 
Teheran  and  Constantinople,  and  the  black,  white, 
and  gray  skins,  which  make  the  hats  of  ordinary 
Persians  and  Tartars,  as  well  as  most  of  those 
which  under  the  name  of  "  Astrakhan  "  20  to  Eu- 
rope  and  America,  are  quite  inferior,  and  from  a 
different  locality.  Then  there  are  striped  and  em- 
broidered kalats  from  Khiva  —  garments  cut  like 
dressing-gowns  and  highly  prized  by  the  Tartars 
of  Russia ;  and  gay  silken  shawls  and  handker- 
chiefs of  the  soft,  loosely  woven  fabrics  of  Bokhara. 
Their  dried  fruits  are  unrivaled  —  peaches,  grapes 
and  apricots  from  the  gardens  of  the  Jaxartes  and 
the  Zerefshan  ;  and,  if  it  be  in  season,  melons  from 
the  banks  of  the  Oxus  —  those  delicious  green  and 
yellow  Urgendji  melons  whose  fame  has  gone  even 
to  Pekin,  where  they  are  sometimes  sent  as  a  gift  to 
the  emperor,  and  which,  in  Russia,  are  often  ex- 
changed for  their  bulk  in  su£ar  when  sugar  is  bar- 
tered  at  a  ruble  a  pound. 

A  part  of  this  Asiatic  merchandise  is  sold    for 


ASIA  AT  NIJNI.  105 

money,  but  most  of  it  is  exchanged  for  manufac 
tured  articles  at  great  profit  to  the  Russians ;  for 
iron  kettles,  cutlery,  large  copper  samovars,  jew- 
elry, coral  beads  and  various  trinkets ;  leather  for 
water  skins,  broadcloth,  white  muslins,  chintzes, 
velvet,  gold  thread  for  embroidery,  bright  colored 
shawls  and  ribbons,  thread,  and  sugar,  —  but  neither 
guns  nor  ammunition,  for  Russia  will  not  furnish 
these  to  her  turbulent  neighbors.  The  goods  are 
dispatched  from  Nijni  to  Orenburg,  and  early  in 
November  the  caravans  set  out  on  their  return 
journey. 

Most  of  the  Kirghizes  who  conduct  them  stay  on 
the  frontier,  but  here  and  there  in  the  throng 
was  one  dark  and  stalwart,  with  bright  eyes,  flat 
and  almost  beardless  face,  and  clumsy  motions  ; 
wearing  a  felt  cap,  a  shabby  kalat  girt  about  the 
loins,  and  full  trousers  thrust  into  rough  boots,  who 
surveyed  the  scene  with  the  wondering  curiosity  of 
a  child.  Possibly  he  had  no  errand  there  but  to 
see  the  Franks ;  more  likely  he  had  brought  for  sale 
some  of  the  sturdy  horses  of  the  steppe.  As  I 
looked  at  these  men  and  thought  of  the  long  march 
they  would  soon  begin  across  the  desert  wastes  with 
their  infrequent,  brackish  springs ;  exposed  to  the 


106  ASIA  AT  NIJNI. 

mirage  that  shines  but  to  betray,  to  the  sand-storms 
with  their  suffocating  breath,  to  the  terrible  snow- 
hurricanes  that  blind  and  overwhelm,  and,  yet 
worse,  to  the  fierce  attacks  of  plundering  Turko- 
mans, their  heavy  Mongol  forms  and  faces  were  in- 
vested with  a  kind  of  heroic  dignity,  and  I  would 
fain  have  spoken  to  them  in  their  rude  Turkish 
tongue,  and  bid  them  God  speed  on  their  perilous 
way. 

There  is  another  manufacture  here  to  which 
these  nomads  contribute.  Those  piles  of  boxes 
filled  with  stearine  candles  are  the  product  of  the 
tallow  of  their  sheep,  which  in  flocks  of  many 
thousands  they  drive  across  the  steppes  to  the 
Siberian  frontier,  and  from  thence  to  Ekaterine- 
burg,  where  they  are  killed  and  converted  into 
tallow. 

Along  the  miles  of  wharves  were  many  Tartars 
carrying  merchandise  to  and  from  the  boats  and 
the  shore  —  now  bars  and  sheets  of  iron  from  the 
Oural ;  now  rolls  of  leather  from  Kazan  ;  now 
bales  of  the  cotton  of  Khiva;  now  skins  filled  with 
wine  from  the  vineyards  of  Tiflis ;  now  sacks  of 
madder  from  Bokhara.  Some  were  clad  in  caftans 
af  blue  cotton,  some  in  coats  of  sheep-skin,  with 


ASIA  AT  NIJNL  107 

turbans  on  their  heads,  or  hats  of  light  felt,  or  caps 
with  a  rim  of  fur.  The  more  devout  among  them 
said  their  prayers  daily  in  the  mosque  which  rises 
beside  the  Armenian  chapel  and  the  handsome 
Russian  church  beyond  the  bazaars,  and  they 
formed  part  of  the  multitude  that  slept  every 
night  on  the  barges  and  boats  of  the  rivers. 

At  evening  the  city  was  given  up  to  diversion. 
Myriad  lights  gleamed  through  the  streets  and 
along  the  Oka,  whose  placid  waters  reflected  dis- 
tinctly every  object  upon  the  shore.  Colored  lan- 
terns lent  their  glow  to  the  grounds ;  music  and 
the  hum  of  voices  filled  the  air,  but  there  was  no 
open  rioting  or  confusion  ;  the  police  were  every- 
where ;  the  Cossacks  paced  slowly  up  and  down 
the  bridge,  and  in  momentary  lulls  the  peeping 
of  frogs  was  heard,  showing  that  civilization  has 
not  yet  wholly  reclaimed  the  ancient  marsh. 

The  city  was  given  up  to  diversion,  but  mainly 
for  Europeans.  The  Asiatics  keep  here  the  prim- 
itive customs  of  Bokhara  and  the  steppe ;  and, 
when  night  fell,  they  lay  down  to  rest  by  their 
Wales,  or  crept  into  boats  and  barges,  or  stretched 
themselves  on  mats  along  the  ground,  and  slept 
like   children,  oblivious  of  care,  and  at  one  with 

(Jos  tin  v, 


108  ASIA  AT  NIJNI. 

From  this  throng  of  various  nations  two  indt 
viduals  come  vividly  to  mind :  the  *one,  a  Bokha- 
riot,  whom  we  saw  repeatedly  near  the  Oriental 
stalls,  an  observer  rather  than  an  actor — his  Tar 
tar  features  softened  into  a  noble,  serene  melan 
choly — the  dignity  of  an  emir  in  the  poise  of  his 
turbaned  head  — and,  as  he  surveyed  the  bustling 
Europeans,  his  thoughts  busy,  I  fancied,  with  the 
waning  fortunes  of  his  race.  The  other  was  a 
young  Russian  girl  belonging  to  a  band  of  singers, 
whose  office  it  was  to  solicit  money  from  the  by- 
standers when  the  songs  were  done.  It  was  evi- 
dently new  work  for  her.  Her  face  was  like  a 
spring  flower,  fair  and  sweet,  and  she  blushed  anu 
trembled  as  she  held  out  her  hand,  —  a  woman 
who  should  have  been  shrined  in  some  happy 
home,  instead  of  being  the  gaze  of  restaurant  anti 
saloon.  How  fares  the  Tartar  by  the  distant 
Oxus  ?  And  what  fate  has  overtaken  the  inno- 
cent maiden  ? 

The  Fair  of  Nijni  is  an  institution  for  Asia,  and 
will  endure  and  grow  until  better  means  of  com- 
munication throw  open  the  interior  of  that  vast 
continent  to  the  commerce  of  the  world.  Now^ 
from  the  Oural   to  the  Pacific,  it  is   through  the 


ASIA  AT  NIJNL  109 

medium  of  caravans  and  fairs  that  business  is 
transacted ;  and  goods  are  bartered  rather  than 
sold.  The  hunter  on  the  Amoor  gives  his  sables 
and  fox-skins ;  the  Kirghiz  his  flocks  and  herds ; 
and  the  Tartar  of  the  south  his  fruit  and  silk  and 
cotton  for  the  products  of  Europe.  Nay,  even 
the  nomads  of  remote  and  thinly  populated  dis- 
tricts have  their  fairs  of  the  steppe,  to  which  they 
repair  on  horseback,  dressed  in  their  best,  and 
gravely  bargain  for  a  few  trifles,  returning  with 
them  to  their  tents.  But  gradually,  as  intercourse 
becomes  freer,  this  state  of  things  will  pass  away. 
With  every  year  the  West  gains  upon  the  East. 
Deserts  and  mountains  are  no  longer  impassable 
barriers.  Already  Russia  is  planning  a  railway 
across  Siberia,  and  another  from  the  Caspian  to 
the  Aral  Sea ;  and  the  day  will  come  when  the 
great  Fair  of  Nijni  will  be  as  much  a  thing  of 
the  past,  as  is  that  wonder  of  naturalists,  the  mam- 
moth of  the  Lena. 


KAZAN. 


KAZAN. 


Kazan  looks  down  from  the  Volga  wall, 

Bright  in  the  darkest  weather ; 
And  the  Christian  chime  and  the  Moslem  call 

Sound  from  her  towers  together. 

Shrine  of  the  Golden  Horde  was  she  ; 

Boast  of  the  proud  Bokhara ; 
And  her  fame  was  wafted  over  the  sea, 

And  sung  in  the  far  Sahara. 

Woe  to  her  Faith  and  her  turbaned  Lord  1 
The  Cross  and  the  Russ  were  stronger ; 

Her  splendors  now  are  the  Czar's  reward, 
And  her  Khans  are  kings  no  longer  ! 

Yet  still  she  looks  from  the  Volga  wall, 

Bright  in  the  darkest  weather  ; 
And  the  Christian  chime  and  the  Moslem  call 

Sound  from  her  towers  together. 

TTTITH    the  novelty  and    interest   of  the  Fair 

unexhausted,  we  left  Nijni  for  Kazan,  three 

hundred  miles  east.     A  furious  wind  was  blowing, 


114  KAZAN. 

as  under  the  high  bluff  of  the  old  town  we  wound 
along  the  roughly  paved  street  to  the  Volga  side 
—  a  wind  that  filled  the  air  with  cloirds  of  sand, 
obscuring  the  view,  and  recalling  the  story  of 
the  hurricane  which  raged  at  Moscow  when  the 
pretender,  Dimitri,  approached  the  Kremlin  :  an 
awful  blast  whose  whirling  dust  enveloped  the 
false  Czar  and  his  attendants,  and  made  the  peo- 
ple, stricken  with  suspicious  terror  at  the  sight, 
cross  themselves  and  cry  out,  "  God  keep  us  from 
harm  ! " 

It  was  one  of  the  boats  of  the  "  Volga  and  Cas- 
pian Steamship  Company  "  in  which  we  had  taken 
passage,  and  we  were  no  sooner  on  board  than  she 
was  under  way.  Several  hundred  steamers  pi} 
the  Volga  between  Tver  and  Astrakhan,  begin- 
ning with  those  of  very  light  draught  for  the  uppei 
stream,  and  growing  larger  as  the  river  deepens. 
They  have  neither  saloon  nor  state-room  on  deck, 
but,  below,  a  cabin  and  a  small  apartment  for 
ladies.  Our  captain  was  one  of  that  race  of  born 
sailors,  a  Finn,  and  spoke  tolerable  English,  which 
he  had  picked  up  on  a  voyage  he  once  made  to 
New  York.  We  were  the  only  "  first-class  "  pas- 
sengers, and  our  meals  were  daintily  served  in 
the  ladies'  cabin. 


KAZAN.  115 

The  Volga,  at  Nijni,  is  about  three  fourths  of 
a  mile  wide,  and  as  its  average  fall  is  but  a  little 
over  three  inches  to  the  mile,  it  flows  with  a  calm, 
equable  current  until  it  loses  itself  in  the  Caspian, 
eighty  feet  below  the  level  of  the  ocean.  In  win- 
ter it  is  a  sledge-road,  a  mass  of  ice  from  the 
Valdai  Hills  to  Astrakhan  ;  in  summer,  covered 
with  countless  boats  that  carry  the  products  of  the 
East  and  South  to  St.  Petersburg  and  the  Baltic. 
A  little  below  Nijni  the  bold  bluff  slopes  rapidly 
to  the  water,  and  thenceforth,  throughout  its  whole 
extent,  the  banks  are  comparatively  low  and  mo- 
notonous. 

The  wild  wind  had  brought  an  autumn  rain, 
fine  and  chill.  The  region  through  which  we 
passed  is  very  productive,  yet,  bare  of  harvests 
and  baked  in  the  summer  sun,  it  presented  little 
of  interest  as  seen  from  the  deck  through  the 
storm.  Now  and  then  large  barges  passed  us 
towed  by  steamers,  and  loaded  with  dried  fish 
from  Astrakhan,  which,  at  a  little  distance,  re- 
sembled piles  of  wood.  At  night  the  boat  an- 
chored near  the  shore,  and  we  made  ourselves  as 
comfortable  as  we  might  upon  the  divans  and 
cushions  of  the  cabin  —  beds  and  bedding-  being 
tilings  unknown  on   the   boats  of  the  Volga. 


116  KAZAN. 

Mornino-  found  the  rain  still  falling ;  the  shores 
flat  and  noteless;  and  laden  boats  and  barges  beat- 
ing up  the  gray,  slow-moving  river.  A  little 
after  noon  the  clouds  began  to  give  place  to  clear 
kies,  and  at  three  o'clock  we  reached  a  small 
settlement  on  the  left  bank,  and  saw,  crowning  a 
high  ridge,  the  domes  and  towers  of  Kazan. 

This  Tartar  city,  capital  of  the  kingdom  founded 
in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  by  Batu 
Khan,  grandson  of  the  great  Ghengis,  derives  its 
name,  so  says  one  of  its  own  historians,  from  the 
golden  kettle  (kazan)  which  a  servant  of  the  first 
Khan  let  fall  into  the  little  river,  Kazanka,  when 
dipping  up  water  for  his  thirsty  master.  By  this 
hill  the  fierce  Golden  Horde  halted  in  their  advance 
from  the  East,  and  laid  the  foundations  of  a  lordly 
state.  Behind  them  was  Asia,  already  theirs ;  be- 
fore them  Europe,  trembling  at  their  approach. 
On  their  fleet  horses  they  overran  Muscovy,  plun- 
dering and  despoiling  as  they  went ;  and  it  was 
gravely  proposed  in  a  council  of  their  rulers,  to 
destroy  every  town  and  city  of  the  Unbelievers, 
and  turn  the  whole  land  into  a  pasture  for  their 
flocks!  But  Mohammed  was  not  to  reign  in  Russia. 
After  centuries  of  fear   and  oppression   and  war, 


KAZAN.  117 

John  the  Terrible,  the  last  powerful  sovereign  of 
the  race  of  Rurik,  besieged  Kazan  and  took  it  by 
springing  a  mine  beneath  the  walls.  The  Tartars 
made  a  heroic  resistance  ;  and  hard  and  cruel  as 
this  monarch  was,  and  miserably  as  his  people  had 
suffered,  he  is  said  to  have  wept  when  he  forced 
the  gates  and  saw  the  heaps  of  dead  bodies  that 
blocked  the  streets  and  courts  of  the  beleaguered 
city.  A  few  years  later,  the  Tartar  kingdom  of 
Astrakhan  yielded  to  his  arms,  and  thenceforth 
those  who  remained  of  these  dark-eyed  followers 
of  the  Prophet  were  humble  subjects  of  the  Czars. 
We  took  droskies  at  the  river  side  and  drove  up 
the  long  ascent  to  the  town.  The  broad,  sandy, 
uneven  road  was  filled  with  vehicles  goino;  to  and 
fro,  —  droskies  and  carts  laden  with  merchandise, 
most  of  them  driven  by  Tartars  in  white  felt  hats, 
sheep-skin  coats,  high  boots,  and  wide  trousers.  On 
our  left  was  a  huge  pyramidal  monument  of  stone 
to  the  memory  of  the  Muscovites  who  fell  in  the 
siege.  Few  buildings  were  to  be  seen,  for  the 
Volga  sometimes  makes  a  lake  of  the  whole  space 
between  the  shore  and  the  hill.  Reaching  the 
summit,  we  turned  into  the  broad  street,  lined  with 
bazaars  and  stately  buildings,  which  runs  along  its 


118  KAZAN. 

brow,  and  were  soon  at  home  in  a  spacious  new 
hotel  kept  by  a  Finn,  whose  beds  were  more  luxu- 
rious and  whose  table  more  inviting  than  any  we 
found  afterwards  in  Russia. 

An  hour's  repose  and  we  went  forth  to  see  the 
town.  At  the  crest  of  the  hill,  on  the  ruins  of  the 
old  Tartar  fortifications,  the  Russians  have  built 
their  Kremlin,  —  one  massive  gateway  still  standing 
of  the  city  of  the  Khans.  Within  the  walls  is  the 
cathedral,  begun  soon  after  the  siege,  and  to  com- 
memorate the  victory ;  and  near  by  is  the  convent, 
of  a  little  later  date,  in  whose  chapel  is  a  copy  of 
the  miraculous  picture  of  the  Virgin  now  shrined 
in  the  Kazan  Church  at  St.  Petersburg.  The 
chapel  copy  wears  a  crown  of  diamonds,  the  gift 
of  the  Empress  Catherine.  The  face  is  perhaps 
the  most  pleasing  one  of  all  the  Virgins  of  the 
Church,  and  under  the  name  of  "  Our  Lady  of 
Kazan,"  it  is  adored  from  the  White  Sea  to  the 
Euxine.  Service  was  progressing  as  we  stood  in 
the  chapel,  and  the  space  before  the  altar  was  filled 
with  nuns  in  high  close  caps,  and  long  black  veils, 
while  on  the  wall  behind  them  was  painted  a  hor- 
rible representation  of  the  torments  of  hell,  —  yel- 
low wreathing  flames,  into  which  devils  with  sharp 


4  W-  'l     -I 


iiSlM 


Ol'K  LADY  OF  KAZAN. 


KAZAN.  119 

forks  were  thrusting  the  condemned.  If  this  was 
their  thought  of  the  future,  and  only  the  Church 
could  save,  the  wonder  was,  not  that  the  Sisters 
were  so  many,  but  rather  that  any  woman  of  Kazan 
was  left  in  the  outside  world.  After  prayers  we 
went  into  the  convent,  an  ancient  building  in  whose 
unadorned  rooms  the  younger  nuns  were  embroid- 
ering sacred  banners  and  vestments,  with  crowns 
and  crosses  and  wreaths  of  flowers,  in  bright  floss 
and  thread  of  gold  and  silver.  Their  fair,  broad 
faces  wore  an  anxious  look,  and  they  bent  over 
their  frames  as  if  each  stitch  made  them  surer  of 
heaven.  The  afternoon  sun  looked  in  at  the  high, 
uncurtained  windows  ;  the  swelling  domes  of  the 
cathedral  shone  in  the  upper  blue  ;  but  not  one 
raised  her  eyes  from  her  work,  or  spoke  above  her 
breath  in  reply  to  the  directions  of  her  teacher; 
and  it  was  with  a  sigh  of  compassion  that  I  stepped 
over  the  worn  threshold  into  the  free  air. 

From  her  commanding  height  Kazan  looks  al- 
ways  towards  Asia.  The  trade  of  Siberia  pours 
through  her  streets.  Her  manufactures  of  cloth 
and  leather  and  silk  and  soap,  go  east  rather  than 
west  for  a  market.  Her  university  gives  special 
attention  to  Oriental  languages  and  literature;  nay, 


120  KAZAN. 

nearly  one  fifth  of  her  seventy  thousand  inhab- 
itants are  of  Tartar  race  and  creed,  and  turn  to 
Bokhara  rather  than  to  St.  Petersburg  for  guidance 
and  inspiration. 

Below  the  crest  of  the  hill  is  a  narrow  sheet  of 
water,  the  Kaiban  Lake.  On  its  shores  is  the  work- 
ing town  of  shops  and  factories,  and  beyond  is  the 
Tartar  quarter,  into  which  we  drove  in  the  late 
afternoon.  It  was  difficult  to  believe  we  were  in 
cold  and  Orthodox  Russia.  The  houses  wore  the 
colors  of  Damascus ;  minarets  rose  before  us  tipped 
with  upright,  glittering  crescents  attached  by  a 
single  horn  ;  dogs  with  the  true  bark  and  bound  of 
Stamboul  rushed  forth  as  we  passed ;  fat,  rosy 
children,  in  queer  caps  and  trousers,  peeped  from 
the  courts ;  a  solitary  woman  went  by,  attired  in  a 
long  robe,  and  drawing  her  shawl  over  her  face  like 
a  veil,  so  that  only  one  eye  was  free  to  regard  the 
strangers  ;  the  shoemakers'  shops  were  filled  with 
boots  and  slippers  of  bright  morocco  leather,  some 
of  them  gayly  worked  with  gold  ;  the  merchants 
waited  with  Cairene  indifference  our  pleasure  to 
buy ;  and,  to  complete  the  illusion,  from  a  near 
minaret  came  the  cry,  "  To  prayer !  to  prayer ! 
There   is  no  God  but  God,  and  Mohammed  is  his 


KAZAN.  121 

Prophet !  "  We  had  just  come  from  a  Russian 
church,  whose  worshippers  crossed  themselves  de- 
voutly before  the  image  of  Our  Lady  of  Kazan  ; 
and  as  the  Tartars,  without  shrine  or  picture,  ad- 
dressed their  prayers  to  the  one  God,  I  saw  how, 
from  their  point  of  view,  they  might  call  their 
Christian  neighbors  idolaters,  and  scorn  to  yield  the 
Faith  of  their  fathers. 

Quiet,  but  alien,  these  people  dwell  among  the 
Russians.  Has  a  youth  among  them  a  studious 
turn  ?  He  goes  to  the  colleges  of  Bokhara. 
Would  one  see  the  world?  He  journeys  to  Con- 
stantinople ;  possibly  to  the  holy  cities  of  Arabia. 
The  West  and  the  Franks  have  no  part  in  their 
love  or  their  ambition.  As  a  race  they  are  comely. 
Robust  in  form  without  being  stout,  their  motions 
are  easy  and  of  a  certain  dignity  ;  their  complex- 
ions are  dark  and  fresh,  their  features  regular,  their 
eyes  of  black  or  grayish-blue  shaded  by  heavy 
lashes,  and  in  them  there  is  often  a  patient  sadness 
that  belongs  not  to  their  blood,  but  is  born  of  their 
fortunes  and  the  resignation  taught  by  their  relig- 
ion. Their  lives  are  simple  and  frugal.  They  are 
all  taught  in  their  own  schools  to  read  and  write 
and  cast  accounts,  and  their  honesty  and  sobriety 


122  KAZAN. 

make  tliem  sought  as  servants,  clerks,  and  crafts 
men.  In  the  country  they  are  small  farmers,  and 
almost  every  house  has  its  hives  of  bees.  Wine 
being  forbidden,  they  make  of  their  honey  a  kind 
of  mead,  and  prepare  their  tea  like  the  Tartars  of 
the  steppe.  Their  unleavened  cakes  still  bake 
upon  the  hearth  like  those  Sarah  kneaded  for  the 
angels,  and  their  greatest  delicacy  is  parched  corn 
—  perhaps  the  same  which  Boaz  gave  to  Ruth  — 
boiled  in  milk  or  fried  in  butter.  All  delight  in 
tobacco,  and  as  there  are  no  Wahabee  Zelators 
near  to  scent  its  odor  and  bring  them  to  trial,  their 
pipes  are  always  in  use  or  worn  at  their  girdles. 
Few  of  them  cumber  their  dwellings  with  beds  or 
chairs.  The  cushioned  divan,  or  the  bench  spread 
with  mats  of  felt,  suits  them  better  than  all  the 
elaborate  upholstery  of  Europe.  Proud  of  their 
race  and  their  traditions,  they  cling  fondly  to  the 
past;  and  although  the  Government  has  established 
churches  and  schools  among  them  whose  services 
and  instructions  are  in  their  own  tongue,  they  hear 
the  mass  and  learn  the  lessons,  but  are  as  far  from 
conversion  as  ever.  Yet  they  must  be  affected  by 
the  life  and  progress  of  the  nation,  and  doubtless 
with  every  year  they  will  grow  more  like  their 
conquerors. 


KAZAN.  123 

On  our  way  back  to  the  hotel  we  drove  a  few 
versts  east  of  the  city  to  see  a  spot  whose  pictu- 
resque, woody  ravines  have  gained  it  the  name  of 
the  Russian  Switzerland.  It  was  a  ridge  like  that 
upon  which  Kazan  is  built,  but  tree-covered  and 
broken  into  miniature  hills  and  valleys.  From  its 
crest  we  looked  over  the  broad  country  beyond  — 
a  rolling  region,  with  few  habitations  visible  ;  here 
and  there  a  thick  grove,  perhaps  of  the  oaks  of  this 
province  carefully  preserved  by  the  Government  for 
ship-building  ;  while  about  us,  and  crowning  lower 
slopes,  were  forests  of  white  birches  growing  strong 
and  tall  as  in  their  native  air ;  best  of  trees  to  the 
Russian — their  bark  tanning  his  leather,  their  leaves 
giving  him  a  yellow  dye,  their  sap  furnishing  him  a 
kind  of  wine,  their  wood  making  his  household 
utensils,  and  as  dried  splinters  and  fuel  supplying 
him  with  candles  and  saving  him  from  the  rigors  of 
winter. 

A  golden  glow  suffused  the  landscape,  and  turn- 
ing west  again  we  saw  the  sun  go  down  in  splendor 
with  an  orb  above  it,  a  second  sun.  A  chill  wind 
sprang  up,  tossing  the  thin  foliage  of  the  birch 
trees,  sighing  through  the  pines,  and  dying  away  in 
mournful  murmurs  on  the  horizon  of  Asia.     The 


124  KAZAN. 

sunset  glory  faded,  and  in  its  room  appeared  a 
cloud  that  spread  rosy  wings  and  floated  like  a 
bright  bird  over  the  dark  and  sluggish  river. 

Alighting  in  the  wide,  modern  street,  Russian 
officers  erect  and  haughty,  went  to  and  fro  ;  Rus- 
sian ladies,  in  the  costumes  of  Paris,  drove  or  saun- 
tered by ;  the  roll  of  the  evening  drum  came  from 
the  barracks,  and  there  was  nothing  but  the  name 
to  remind  us  that  we  were  in  the  city  of  the 
Khans. 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA, 


THE  VOLGA  TO  SAMARA. 


The  people,  the  Russian  people, 

God  grant  their  night  is  past, 
And  the  gloom  of  their  weary  waiting 

Lost  in  the  dawn  at  last  ! 
From  the  Baltic  to  the  Okhotsk  Sea 

The  stars  have  heard  their  wail, 
And  the  steppe-winds  borne  their  prayers  to  heaven 

That  llight  may  yet  prevail. 

The  people,  the  patient  people, 

They  are  the  strength,  the  power,  — 
Their  hearts  are  true  to  the  Russian  Land 

Though  darkest  clouds  may  lower. 
It  was  Yermak,  the  valiant  Cossack, 

Who  broad  Siberia  won  ; 
Through  Minin,  peasant  of  Nijni, 

Were  the  tyrant-Poles  undone  ; 

And  Archangel's  Lomondsoff, 

Child  of  the  common  throng, 
A  fisher-lad,  was  first  to  shape 

The  sounding  Russ  in  son<j. 


128  THE  VOLGA    TO  SAMARA. 

The  people,  the  trusting  people, 

God  grant  their  night  is  past, 
And  the  gloom  of  their  weary  waiting 

Lost  in  the  dawn  at  last ! 

TN  a  larger  boat  we  reembarked  the  next  morning. 
The  deck  was  crowded  with  soldiers  going  to 
distant  barracks,  and  with  Tartars,  reclining,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  East,  upon  mats  of  felt  or  skin, 
but  we  were  still  the  only  occupants  of  the  saloon. 
The  sky,  though  cloudless,  had  a  grayish  hue,  and 
a  strong  cold  wind  blew  with  uninterrupted  fury 
from  the  north —  the  sirocco  of  the  Pole.  The  low 
banks  were  occasionally  varied  by  bluffs  covered 
with  trees,  but  sometimes  for  miles  together  the 
widening  river  hardly  allowed  us  a  glimpse  inland. 
At  intervals  a  church  with  its  glittering  dome  rose 
to  view,  making  the  Russians  cross  themselves 
devoutly  and  the  Tartars  relapse  into  still  deeper 
apathy ;  or  we  passed  a  serf  village,  always  the 
same  assemblage  of  barn-like  huts  before  the  dreary 
background  of  interminable  pines. 

I  never  could  look  at  them  without  picturing  the 
life  within,  —  the  cracks  in  the  walls  stuffed  with 
moss,  the  low  smoky  ceiling,  the  table  and  benches 
fashioned  with  a  hatchet,  the  chest  containing  the 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA.  129 

few  family  treasures,  the  bowls  and  spoons  of  birch 
wood  which  serve  for  the  cabbage  soups  and  the 
fish  stews  of  the  fast-days,  the  steaming  foul  air 
of  the  long  winter  nights  when  all  the  family, 
wrapped  in  their  garments  of  sheep-skin  or  coarse 
woolen  cloth,  lie  huddled  together  on  the  top  of  the 
great  brick  stove  or  its  adjoining  shelf,  while  per- 
haps a  calf  or  a  pig  is  shut  in  a  pen  below.  So, 
during  the  snows  of  winter,  the  wandering  Kir- 
ghizes of  the  plains  crowd  their  felt-covered  yourts, 
and  in  summer  both  alike  take  to  the  ground  and 
ask  only  the  shelter  of  the  sky.  The  peasants 
have  a  proverb,  "  With  plenty  of  bread  it  is  para- 
dise under  the  pines,"  and  I  always  ended  by  trust- 
ing they  had  at  least  an  abundance  of  food,  and 
remembering  that  a  better  day  has  dawned  for 
them. 

An  isolated  cabin  was  rarely  seen.  Drifting 
snows,  the  great  uninhabited  spaces  between  the 
towns,  the  wolves  and  bears  which  infest  some  re- 
gions, and  a  feeling  of  individual  weakness  born 
of  their  long  social  degradation,  combine  to  keep 
the  peasants  massed  in  villages.  A  deeper  cause, 
perhaps,  is  their  Oriental  love  of  patriarchal  rule 
and  tribal  association. 


130  THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA. 

When  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  serf- 
dom was  introduced,  it  was  perhaps  a  necessary 
evil.  For  more  than  two  hundred  years  the  Tar- 
tars had  ravaged  the  country,  and  through  their 
tyranny  and  example  the  nation  was  in  danger  of 
becoming  nomadic.  The  cities  were  thronged  and 
there  was  a  constant  migration  of  northern  peasants 
to  the  warm  plains  of  the  South.  Serfdom,  making 
them  stationary,  insured  quiet  and  the  cultivation 
of  the  soil.  But  what  woes  it  brought  to  the  poor 
rustic,  forced  to  toil  without  hope  of  change  on  the 
field  where  he  was  born,  with  flogging  or  banish- 
ment as  the  penalty  of  his  lord's  displeasure  ;  to 
whom  the  law  allowed  only  a  credit  of  five 
rubles,  and  who,  in  some  provinces,  was  obliged 
even  to  yield  his  bride,  on  her  wedding  night,  to 
the  pleasure  of  his  master !  Happily  humanity  is 
often  better  than  its  institutions.  Of  course  there 
were  here  and  there  indulgent  proprietors  whose 
serfs  engaged  in  enterprises  of  their  own  and  won 
wealth  and  name  and  fame,  but  these  were  the 
rare  exceptions.  In  general,  if  a  serf  accumulated 
a  little  money  he  dared  not  let  it  be  known  ;  and 
nothing  is  more  common  than  to  find  such  secreted 
coins   buried   in   the   ground    of  old    hamlets.     No 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA.  131 

wonder  the  brave,  philanthropic  Alexander  II.  on 
coming  to  the  throne  made  it  his  first  care  to  re- 
move these  burdens  that  pressed  so  heavily  on  half 
of  his  subjects.  Yet  so  great  was  the  fear  of  a  re- 
turn to  wandering  habits  that,  though  the  serf  be- 
came at  once  personally  free,  the  process  of  acquir- 
ing land  was  to  be  gradual ;  and  to  induce  him  to 
remain  where  he  was,  upon  his  payment  to  the 
proprietor  of  one  fifth  of  the  sum  required  for  seven 
acres  of  land,  the  Government  paid  the  remaining 
four  fifths,  charging  him  six  per  cent,  interest  upon 
the  loan  for  forty-nine  years.  In  addition  to  this, " 
he  could  not  leave  the  community  without  forfeit- 
ing his  right  to  the  common  lands.     There  is  no 

©  © 

longer  solicitude  regarding  the  effect  of  the  change. 
Already  under  this  arrangement  three  fourths  of 
the  former  serfs  are  land-owners,  and  there  is  con- 
stant improvement  in  their  manner  of  living.  They 
have  the  faults  and  vices  of  a  subject  race,  but, 
with  them,  qualities  of  a  noble  manhood  which 
education  and  opportunity  will  display.  Ignorant 
and  intoxicated  with  the  idea  of  liberty,  at  first 
many  of  them  were  idle,  and,  like  children, 
thoughtless  0f  the  future.     A  gentleman  of  Moscow 

©  © 

told  me  this  story  of  his  experience  in  the  province 
of  old  Novgorod  two  years  after  the  emancipation. 


132  THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA. 

"  I  had  contracted  with  the  inhabitants  of  a  cer- 
tain village  to  furnish  a  large  quantity  of  wood  cut 
in  the  forest  and  made  ready  for  transportation  to 
the  city.  When  I  went  among  them  I  found  they 
had  been  idle,  and  were  in  great  distress  because 
their  taxes  were  unpaid,  and  the  sheriff  had  threat- 
ened to  sell  all  their  effects  the  next  morning  at 
public  auction.  They  pressed  into  my  house 
weeping  and  lamenting,  and  the  patriarch  ex- 
plained that  their  debt  was  eleven  hundred  silver 
rubles,  towards  which,  they  could  raise  but  two 
hundred. 

"  '  But,'  said  I,  *  if  I  see  the  sheriff  and  ad- 
vance part  of  this  money  for  you  and  stay  the  sale, 
will  you  go  to  work  ?  ' 

"  *  With  the  first  fall  of  snow  that  we  can  take 
our  sledges  to  the  woods,'  replied  the  gray-haired 
father  of  the  village.  The  next  morning  I  drove 
some  fifteen  versts  to  see  the  sheriff;  explained 
their  situation  to  him,  and,  by  advancing  five  hun- 
dred rubles  towards  their  taxes,  persuaded  him  to 
wait  for  the  rest. 

"'But  you'll  regret  it,'  said  he;  *  they  are  an 
idle,  good-for-nothing  set,  and  you'll  never  ge* 
your  money  back.' 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA.  133 

"  I  had  confidence  in  the  people,  however,  and 
when  I  returned  and  told  them  the  result  they 
crowded  about  me  and  kissed  my  hand  and  blessed 
me  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  while  they  again 
promised  to  begin  work  with  the  first  snow.  Then 
they  sent  me  little  presents  —  a  few  eggs,  a  fish,  a 
bowl  of  meal  —  anything  they  could  spare  from 
their  narrow  stores.  For  some  days  the  weather 
continued  mild  ;  then  one  evening  the  snow  began 
to  fall  and  the  next  morning  the  ground  was 
covered  to  the  depth  of  six  inches.  My  house  was 
away  from  the  village,  and  after  breakfast  I  said 
to  my  companion,  a  young  man  from  Moscow : 
'  Now  we  will  ride  over  to  the  woods  and  see 
about  the  work.' 

"He  shook  his  head,  and  exclaimed,  as  we  started 
off,  '  There  's  not  the  least  use  in  going.  Not  a 
soul  will  stir.' 

"  '  Wait  and  see,'  said  I.  •  I  have  kept  faith 
with  them,  and  I  believe  they  will  with  me.' 

"  At  the  first  point  where  we  should  have  seen 
them  we  halted,  but  no  one  was  in  sight.  'There,' 
shouted  my  friend,  '  I  told  you  so  I  ' 

"  '  Wait  a  little  longer,'  said  I,  and  we  drove  on 
till  at  a  turn  in  the  road,  lo !  the  whole  popula- 


134  THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA. 

tion,  young  and  old,  men  and  women,  boys  and 
girls,  with  sledges  and  axes  and  hatchets,  on  their 
way  to  the  woods  !  They  worked  steadily  ;  ful- 
filled their  contract  with  me,  and  soon  discharged 
their  debt.  When  I  told  Count  Pushkin  about  it 
afterwards,  he  listened  with  tearful  eyes  and  said, 
'  Ah  !  Our  people  are  truthful.  We  shall  yet  be 
proud  of  the  Russians  1 '  " 

In  spite,  however,  of  their  long  subjection  and 
ignorance,  it  is  from  this  class  that  some  of  the 
most  illustrious  Russians  have  sprung.  Kozma 
Minin,  the  patriot,  through  whose  efforts  the  coun- 
try was  freed  from  the  Poles,  was  a  peasant  of 
Nijni  Novgorod.  Nikita  Demidoff,  ancestor  of  the 
princely  family  of  that  name,  whose  discovery  and 
development  of  the  mines  of  the  Oural  added  in- 
calculable wealth  to  the  empire,  was  a  serf  of  the 
province  of  Tula.  Michael  Lomonosoff,  poet  and 
savan,  who  discarded  the  foreign  languages  of  the 
court  and  the  schools,  and  made  the  rich,  flowing, 
vernacular  Russ  the  language  of  science  and  litera- 
ture, was  a  poor  fisherman  of  Archangel.  Re- 
membering men  like  them,  it  was  always  with  pro- 
found interest  that  I  looked  at  these  simple  folk 
and  their  humble  abodes  —  a  race  whose  capacities 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA.  135 

»re  yet  unknown,  and  who  may  one  day  lead  the 
world. 

Some  fifty  miles  below  Kazan  we  came  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Kama,  —  longest  and  most  important 
of  the  two  hundred  rivers  that  flow  into  the  Volga. 
From  its  source  in  the  Oural  it  has  a  course  of 
more  than  twelve  hundred  miles,  and  bears  on  its 
tide  the  products  of  the  mines,  the  leather  and  tal- 
low furnished  by  the  herds  of  the  steppes,  and  the 
furs  and  teas  of  far  Siberia  and  China.  On  its 
high,  bleak  plains  rises  Perm,  nearest  town,  of 
note,  to  Asia,  —  Perm,  through  whose  streets  goes 
the  great  road  to  Siberia,  and  where  exiles  bid  fare- 
well to  Europe  and  to  hope.  During  the  summer 
nearly  forty  thousand  men  are  employed  upon  its 
boats  and  rafts  which,  at  Nijni,  exchange  the  com- 
modities of  the  East  for  those  of  the  West. 

The  Volga  grows  perceptibly  larger  after  receiv- 
ing its  great  tributary,  and  on  its  broad  current  we 
went  swiftly  down  to  Simbirsk,  capital  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  that  name  and  point  of  export  for  the 
wheat  of  the  rich  provinces  of  Pensa  and  Tambov 
which  lie  behind  it.  Here  we  rested  for  several 
hours  during  the  night,  which  was  dark  and  cloudy, 


136  THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA. 

with  a  chill,  mournful  wind  blowing  over  the  river. 
We  slept  again  upon  the  plush-spread  divans  of  the 
saloon  with  cloaks  and  shawls  for  wrappings,  while 
the  Russians  were  camped  in  the  cabin  and  under 
awnings  upon  deck,  with  blankets  and  huge  feather 
pillows  in  chintz  or  leather  covers.  It  was  amus- 
ing to  see  tall,  stiff,  uniformed  officers  bustling 
about  with  bed-clothes  in  one  hand  and  a  bag  of 
tea  and  sugar  in  the  other,  calling  for  hot  water 
and  arranging  for  an  unoccupied  corner.  "  Si- 
chas"  (directly),  was  the  invariable  response  of  the 
waiters;  but  here,  as  elsewhere  in  the  country,  they 
seemed  to  have  little  idea  of  time,  and  if  you  saw 
them  again  within  an  hour  you  were  fortunate. 

At  dawn  the  steamer  was  under  way,  and  as 
breakfast  was  brought  in  we  reached  Stavropol,  a 
town  of  the  last  century,  built  to  gain  control  over 
a  horde  of  Kalmucks  established  there,  and  having 
some  four  thousand  inhabitants.  Here  the  Volga 
turns  sharply  to  the  east,  and  running  thus  for 
forty  miles,  bends  south  and  then  west  again,  mak- 
ing a  circuit  of  a  hundred  miles.  The  land  it 
incloses  is  the  property  of  the  Orloff  family,  fa- 
mous for  the  partiality  of  the  Empress  Catherine 
and  for  the  great  diamond  in  the  Imperial  sceptre, 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA.  137 

with  which  Gregory  Orloff  bought,  for  a  time,  the 
favor  of  his  splendid  and  capricious  mistress. 

At  one  o'clock  we  reached  the  farthest  point  of 
the  bend  and  were  at  Samara,  a  town  at  the  con- 
fluence of  the  Samara  with  the  Volga,  farther  east 
than  Bajrdad  and  almost  in  the  longitude  of  Tehe- 
ran.  Here  we  proposed  to  spend  a  day,  and,  going 
ashore,  we  were  conducted  by  the  German  agent  of 
the  steamship  company  through  the  broad,  roughly- 
paved  streets  to  a  hotel  which  nomads  and  western 
Europeans  might  have  united  in  devising  and  con- 
ducting. It  was  a  great  rambling  structure  with 
high,  empty  rooms,  passages  that  led  nowhere,  and 
handsome  staircases  and  doors  of  mahogany  set  in 
bare  and  plaster-crumbling  walls.  There  were  no 
beds  ready  —  nothing  but  leather-covered  benches 
and  low,  cushioned  divans,  and  our  meals,  though 
palatable,  were  spoiled  by  being  brought  through 
the  windy  halls.  Samara  was  founded  nearly  three 
hundred  years  ago  as  a  frontier  post  against  the 
Asiatic  tribes.  Its  fortifications  have  long  ago  dis- 
appeared, but  as  the  largest  grain  market  on  the 
Volga,  and  the  port  of  Orenburg,  it  is  one  of  the 
most  important  towns  on  the  river.  For  Orenburg, 
three  days'  journey  to  the  east,  is  on  the  line  of 


138  THE  VOLGA,  TO   SAMARA. 

Asia,  and  the  rendezvous  of  the  caravans  from 
Bokhara  and  the  Kirghiz  steppes.  In  her  bazaars 
they  discharge  their  goods,  and  from  thence  they 
return  laden  with  the  products  and  manufactures 
of  the  West.  There,  too,  the  Government  has 
founded  a  military  school  for  two  hundred  pupils, 
more  than  half  of  whom  are  to  be  selected  from  the 
sons  of  Tartar  and  Kirghiz  chiefs ;  and  thus  it  is  a 
point  of  influence  for  the  whole  interior. 

After  dinner  we  drove  out  several  versts  to  see 
an  establishment  for  the  cure  of  pulmonary  diseases 
by  the  drinking  of  mare's  milk  —  a  Tartar  remedy 
here  thought  very  efficacious.  The  house  was  on 
the  Volga  bank ;  an  airy,  pretty,  wooden  structure, 
with  gardens  about,  where  petunias,  verbenas,  mari- 
golds, and  dahlias  were  still  in  flower.  On  the 
plain  beyond,  some  forty  mares,  each  with  a  bell 
around  her  neck,  were  feeding  quietly.  The  "  sea- 
son "  is  from  May  to  September  ;  the  charges  eight 
rubles  a  week  for  board  and  twenty  kopecks  a 
bottle  for  milk,  from  three  to  eight  bottles  of  which 
are  taken  daily.  The  number  of  patients  was  from 
sixty  to  one  hundred,  many  of  them  belonging  to 
the  Russian  nobility  and  a  few  from  western  Eu- 
rope.     The   director   was   an  Armenian,  and   the 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA.  139 

domestics  all  Tartars  —  black-eyed,  rosy-cheeked 
women,  with  bright  handkerchiefs  knotted  over 
their  braided  hair.  We  went  into  the  room  where 
they  were  churning  the  sweet  milk  to  sour  it,  and 
then  putting  it  into  tight  bottles  for  use  —  an  apart- 
ment as  daintily  clean  as  Mrs.  Poyser's  dairy  at  the 
Hall  Farm.  While  we  stood  there,  several  deli- 
cate looking  young  men  came  in,  and  presenting 
their  checks,  drank  off  the  milk,  foaming  like  cham- 
pagne, as  if  it  were  the  most  delicious  of  beverages. 
The  house  was  tasteful,  the  gardens  well  kept, 
and  yet  it  seemed  to  me  a  melancholy  place  for  an 
invalid;  to  the  west  the  great  gray  river  —  to  the 
east  the  monotonous  steppe  —  and,  over  all,  the 
hazy  autumn  sky. 

We  returned  to  the  town  by  a  different  route, 
and  met  on  the  wide,  sandy  road  many  ox-teams, 
some  of  them  driven  by  women  clad  in  sheep-skins, 
carrying  stout  whips  in  their  hands  and  calling  in  a 
rough  voice  to  their  oxen,  so  that  it  was  difficult, 
until  we  were  close  upon  them,  to  distinguish  them 
from  men.  There  were  farms  on  either  hand,  and 
one  of  the  low-roofed  houses  was  surrounded  by  an 
apple  orchard.  The  sight  was  so  novel  that  we 
drove  out  of  our  way  to  see  it.     As  we  approached, 


140  THE  VOLGA,  TO  SAMARA. 

a  huge  doer  "bounded  over  the  wall  and  came  to- 
wards  us  with  a  ferocious  bark.  We  were  turning 
away  when  the  master  approached,  and  sending  the 
wolfish  creature  back  to  his  kennel,  picked  up  a 
handful  of  apples  from  the  ground  and  courteously 
presented  them  to  us.  They  were  small  and  sour, 
but  they  reminded  us  of  laden  orchards  across  the 
sea,  and  their  taste  was  grateful  after  the  dust  of 
the  highway. 

To  regain  the  road  we  crossed  a  bare  common, 
and  there  came  upon  a  group  of  a  stranger  race 
than  any  we  had  that  day  encountered. 


A   GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT. 


A  GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT. 


Nay  I  tell  us  not  of  curtained  walls ! 

To  us  they  were  a  prison. 
Better  than  all  your  stately  halls, 
Is  the  heath  where  the  blessed  sunlight  falls, 
And  the  free  wind  blows,  and  the  plover  calls 

When  the  mellow  moon  has  risen. 
And  the  sod,  for  us,  is  a  nobler  bed 
Than  the  couch  with  richest  damask  spread, 
For  ours  are  the  stars  and  the  mystic  ties, 
That  link  the  earth  to  the  rolling  skies. 

Do  you  see  that  girl  with  the  glance  of  fire  ? 
Woe  to  the  man  that  dares  her  ire  I 
She  knows  what  planet  has  power  to  harm; 
What  beam  of  the  moon  will  fall  as  balm  ; 
And  the  hour  when  the  stormy  Pleiads  rise, 
And  the  Star  of  Love  gives  bliss  for  sighs  ; 
And  over  your  palm,  with  secret  lore, 
She'll  read  what  the  dark  years  have  ia  store. 


H4  A   GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT. 

Keep  your  wealth  and  your  gilded  bowers  I 
The  glory  of  field  and  sky  is  ours  ; 
And  all  the  spirits  of  earth  and  air, 
Follow  our  bidding,  foul  or  fair  1 

npHERE  are  few  pleasanter  moments  in  life 
than  those  in  which,  for  the  first  time,  we 
see  some  object,  or  hear  some  sound,  long  de- 
sired, but  previously  known  only  through  the 
imagination. 

Journeying,  some  months  before,  from  Damas- 
cus to  Baalbec,  we  encamped  for  the  night  near 
a  little  village  in  the  valley  of  the  Barada.  The 
furious  wind,  which  had  been  blowing  through  the 
day,  still  continued,  and  almost  drowned  the  voice 
of  the  river,  swollen  with  the  melting  snows  of 
Mount  Hermon,  and  hastening  down  to  the  rills 
and  fountains  of  the  Damascus  plain.  At  length 
there  was  a  momentary  lull  in  the  air,  and  I 
lifted  the  curtain -door  of  the  tent  and  looked 
out  upon  the  Syrian  night.  The  sky  was  deeply 
blue,  and  the  stars  shone  with  the  brilliancy  of 
a  northern  latitude.  Not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard 
from  the  village  or  the  camp.  Suddenly  there 
b.irst  from  the  river-thicket  a  song  so  clear,  so 
rich,  so  rapturous,  that  it  seemed  as  if  a  passing 
seraph,  flying  too  near  the  earth,  had  warbled  some 


A  GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT.  145 

strain  of  paradise  above  the  spot !  1  knew  it  was 
the  nightingale,  and  stood  breathless,  enchanted, 
when  down  came  the  wild  wind  from  Lebanon,  and 
wafted  the  celestial  melody  away. 

Not  less  thrilling  was  the  moment,  when  a  few 
weeks  later,  in  the  Prado  of  Madrid,  I  first  saw  a 
veritable  Gypsy.  We  were  taking  an  early  walk, 
my  friends  and  I ;  the  fashionable  world  was  not 
yet  astir,  and  the  street  was  almost  empty,  when  a 
young  woman  approached  us,  and  in  liquid  Spanish 
asked  for  alms.  She  was  of  medium  height,  and 
of  compact,  lithe,  and  exquisitely  rounded  form ; 
her  skin  was  of  a  ruddy  brown  rather  than  the 
pallid  olive  of  the  Spaniard ;  her  head  and  face 
small ;  her  features  regular  and  delicate  ;  her  black 
eyes  brilliant  and  unflinching;  her  teeth  tiny  and 
dazzlingly  white ;  her  hair  black  and  heavy,  and 
coiled  low  on  her  shapely  neck.  Clad  in  a  petti- 
coat that  scarcely  reached  her  bare,  slender  ankles, 
with  a  gaudy  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  the  folds 
drawn  together  by  her  left  hand,  while  her  right 
was  extended  in  entreaty,  she  was  the  prettiest, 
wiliest,  boldest  creature  the  sun  shone  upon,  and 
the  moment  I  saw  her  I  exclaimed  involuntarily, 
"The  Gitano!" 

A-fter wards,  in  various  countries,  we  met  many 
10 


146  A  GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT. 

of  the  tribe,  —  in  England,  tented  on  the  downs  at 
the  Epsom  races,  here  a  little  tamed,  but  having 
still  the  unmistakable  characteristics  of  their  peo- 
ple ;  in  Hungary  and  Turkey,  sometimes  labor- 
ing in  the  fields,  but  oftener  wanderers,  as  be- 
comes their  blood ;  in  Greece,  roaming  over  the 
plain  about  Eleusis,  fierce-eyed,  squalid,  men  and 
women  whom  you  would  not  like  to  meet  when 
the  sun  was  down  ;  in  Moscow  and  Nijni,  prized 
for  their  musical  gifts,  singing  and  dancing  at  the 
cafe's  and  the  restaurants  attached  to  the  public 
gardens  ;  indeed,  in  the  former  city,  a  Galitzin  did 
not  disdain  to  make  one  of  them  his  wife  (or 
rather  a  Gypsy  did  not  disdain  to  wed  a  Galitzin, 
though  it  is  said  that  for  months,  amid  the  lux- 
uries of  his  palace,  she  wept  and  pined  for  the 
liberty  and  companionship  of  her  kindred);  and 
here,  east  of  the  Volga,  and  almost  on  the  con- 
fines of  Asia,  we  found  them  a^ain. 

Part  of  the  mystery  which  has  shrouded  the 
Gypsies  since  their  first  appearance  in  Europe, 
early  in  the  fifteenth  century,  has  been  dissolved. 
Professor  Pott  of  Halle  has  shown  that  their 
language  is  nearly  allied  to  the  old  Sanskrit,  and, 
by  the   foreign  words    and    idioms  it  has  gained, 


A   GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT.  147 

he  traces  something  of  the  route  they  must  have 
taken  to  the  West.  But  when  or  why  they  left 
their  home  in  India,  and  what  are  the  instincts 
and  influences  of  race  and  religion,  which  have 
made  and  kept  them  as  they  are,  will  perhaps 
never  be  fully  known.  It  is  computed  that  in  all 
the  world  they  number  five  millions,  and  they  are 
most  numerous  in  southern  Europe.  Abhorring 
confinement  and  steady  labor  as  they  do,  and 
loving  the  open  sky,  it  seems  strange  that  they 
should  rove  these  steppes  where  life  cannot  be 
supported  without  exertion,  and  where  cutting 
winds  and  drifting  snows  make  winter  a  terror 
to  those  exposed  to  their  fury.  But  here  was  a 
company  of  more  than  fifty  resting  on  the  plain, 
with  no  visible  means  of  subsistence,  yet  careless 
and  content  as  if  they  had  all  been  kings  and 
queens. 

The  scene,  in  its  essential  features,  was  such  as 
Scott  might  have  pictured  for  the  band  of  Meg 
Merrilies.  A  group  of  eight  or  ten  square  white 
tents  supported  on  poles  ;  rude  carts  standing  by 
with  poor  old  horses  fettered  and  feeding  beside 
them,  while  over  a  fire  on  the  ground  hung  iron 
pots  suspended  from  a  bar  upheld  by  forked  sticks 


148  A  GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT. 

driven  into  the  sod.  The  men  were  probably  ab- 
sent on  some  pilfering  expedition  or  plying  their 
small  trades  in  the  town,  for  we  saw  only  two,  who, 
ill  or  lazier  than  the  rest,  were  stretched  on  a  pile 
of  rags  at  the  entrance  to  one  of  the  tents.  As 
we  came  opposite  them,  dogs  started  up  from  the 
earth,  growling  savagely,  and  women  and  children 
swarmed  forth  and  surrounded  our  droskies.  They 
were  of  all  ages,  from  the  withered  crone  whose 
tanned  and  wrinkled  skin  drawn  tightly  over  her 
bones  made  her  look  like  a  veritable  mummy,  and 
set  you  wondering  why  the  winds  of  the  steppe  had 
not  long  before  blown  her  away,  to  the  velvet- 
cheeked,  six-months-old  baby  that  laughed  and 
crowed,  and  held  up  its  fat,  brown  hands  beneath 
the  shelter  of  its  mother's  shawl.  Fine-limbed  and 
erect,  with  lustrous  hair  and  piercing  eyes,  many 
of  them  would  have  been  exceedingly  handsome 
but  for  the  hardness  and  roughness  of  their  lives. 
Their  dress  was  like  that  of  the  poorest  Russian 
peasants,  —  a  wrap  of  coarse  cloth  or  sheep-skin,  — 
but  there  was  a  picturesqueness  all  their  own  in  the 
handkerchief  tied  round  the  head  like  a  turban,  and 
the  shawl  draping  the  well-formed  shoulders.  All 
wore    earrings    and   trinkets    of  some  sort,  princi- 


GYPSY  KOllTI  iNE  TELLER. 


A   GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT.  149 

pally  colored  glass  beads,  mixed  with  coral ;  and 
one  had,  attached  to  her  showy  necklace,  a  medal 
with  an  image  in  relief  of  Christ  on  the  cross, 
—  doubtless  a  mere  unknown  amulet  to  her  on 
whose  neck  it  hung. 

An  old  woman  separated  herself  from  the  crowd 
and  through  our  interpreter  asked  in  Russ  to  tell 
our  fortunes.  Looking  into  her  listener's  palm  and 
compelling  attention  by  the  magnetic  fire  of  her 
eyes,  she  poured  forth  statements  and  prophecies 
shrewdly  adapted  to  the  apparent  age  and  circum- 
stances of  each  individual  she  addressed,  and  which 
could  hardly  be  explained  except  on  the  supposition 
that  she  possessed  something  of  that  strange  clair- 
voyant power  which  makes  the  thoughts  of  another 
as  our  own.  Then  they  proposed  to  sing,  and  form- 
ing a  circle  they  broke  into  a  wild,  mournful,  mo- 
notonous strain,  while  a  poor  blind  girl,  whom  we 
had  not  hitherto  seen,  came  from  the  nearest  tent, 
and  making  her  way  to  the  middle  of  the  ring, 
began  to  dance  to  the  music.  It  was  like  the  dance 
we  had  seen  among  the  Gypsies  of  the  cafe's  at 
Moscow  and  Nijni,  only  slower  and  more  mysteri- 
ous in  its  motion.  For  a  moment  she  stood  as 
though  under  a  spell ;  then  swayed  herself  gently 


150  A  GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT. 

to  and  fro ;  then  extended  her  arms  as  if  in  suppli- 
cation ;  then,  poising  herself,  whirled  to  the  singing 
like  one  in  an  ecstasy  of  inspiration  ;  and  then,  ex- 
hausted, with  drooping  head  and  folded  hands,  she 
sank  back  and  was  lost  in  the  circle  at  her  side. 
Instantly  another  sprang  forward,  went  through 
the  same  postures  and  silent  invocations  and  re- 
turned to  her  place  ;  then  another,  and  another, 
until  nearly  all  the  young  women  had  borne  a  part, 
and  from  weariness  both  singers  and  dancers  were 
still.  As  I  watched  them,  I  did  not  wonder  that 
they  have  always  been  accused  of  magic,  and  of  a 
league  with  "  the  Prince  of  the  Powers  of  the 
air."  It  was  not  a  voluptuous  measure,  but  a 
weird  incantation ;  and  I  could  but  regard  it  as 
derived  from  some  ancient  religion,  some  early 
worship  or  superstition  of  their  race. 

As  the  circle  broke  up,  two  young  girls  came 
across  the  heath,  the  exact  counterparts  of  the 
Gypsy  of  the  Prado.  Their  cheeks  were  aglow 
with  exercise  ;  their  long  hair,  escaped  from  con- 
finement, fell  in  rich  masses  over  their  shoulders  , 
and  they  advanced,  chatting  gayly  to  themselves, 
and  eating  sunflower  seeds  which  they  had  gath- 
ered from  the  stalks  yet  standing  in  the  fields.     It 


A   GYPSY  ENCAMPMENT.  151 

was  a  picture  of  simplicity  and  beauty  and  health 
and  freedom  that  carried  one  back  to  the  youth  of 
the  world. 

With  our  farewells  we  gave  them  money,  which 
seemed  highly  to  delight  them,  but  just  as  we  drove 
away,  they  called  after  us  in  an  unintelligible 
dialect,  whether  with  blessings  or  curses  we  could 
not  divine.  I  fancy,  however,  it  was  the  latter, 
for  at  once  their  dogs  set  up  an  angry  howl,  which 
did  not  cease  until  we  were  out  of  sight  of  tent  and 
common. 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST. 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST. 


Hail  to  the  glorious  morning 

When  the  Cross  again  shall  shine 
On  the  summit  of  Saint  Sophia, 

O  city  of  Constantine  1 
And  that  day  of  sack  and  slaughter 

When  the  wild,  despairing  cries 
Of  "  Kyrie  Eleison  I  "  fainter 

Went  wailing  up  to  the  skies, 
Shall  be  lost  in  the  splendid  triumph 

As  the  Church  reclaims  her  own, 
And  the  Patriarch  welcomes  our  Lord,  the  Czar, 

To  the  Caesars'  ancient  throne  1 

In  the  sky  of  the  south,  at  midnight, 

We  have  seen  God's  flaming  sign, 
And  we  know  He  will  drive  the  Moslem  horde, 

In  wrath,  from  his  sacred  shrine  I 
Silent  will  be  the  muezzin 

As  the  sun  on  Asia  sets; 
Folded  the  Crescent  banner ; 

Crumbled  the  minarets. 


156  THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST. 

Then,  under  that  dome  of  glory, 

Victorious  chants  we'll  raise, 
While  the  saints  look  down  with  loving  eyes, 

And  the  gems  of  the  altar  blaze. 
Hail  to  the  day  when  the  Eagles 

And  the  Cross  shall  gain  their  own, 
As  the  Patriarch  welcomes  our  Lord,  the  Czar, 

To  the  Caesars'  ancient  throne ! 

rilHE  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  we  were  wak- 
ened by  the  chimes  of  the  church-towers,  bold 
and  clear  as  the  clano-incr  music  of  the  Kremlin. 
For  at  every  point  where  Russia  rests  on  her  road 
to  the  East,  by  fort  and  barrack  she  rears  the 
shrines  of  her  religion,  and  drowns  the  muezzin's 
cry  with  the  louder  call  of  her  bells,  "  To  prayer ! 
To  prayer!  There  is  no  God  but  God,  and  the 
Orthodox  Church  is  his  Prophet  I  " 

At  the  same  time  she  is  too  broad  and  politic  in 
her  views  not  to  humor  the  tastes  and  prejudices 
of  the  conquered.  Five  years  ago,  when  the  cor- 
ner-stone of  a  Greek  church  was  laid  at  the  newly- 
acquired  city  of  Tashkend,  the  ceremonies  were  fol- 
lowed by  a  festival  with  games  and  races  in  which 
the  inhabitants  delight,  and  concluded  by  a  ban- 
quet for  the  multitude. 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST.  157 

With  true  Asiatic  diplomacy,  Russia  gives  when 
she  would  gain  ;  she  yields  when  she  seeks  submis- 
sion ;  and  thus,  through  the  unavoidable  press  of 
trade,  and  the  necessity  for  peace  on  her  frontiers 
and  for  better  communication  with  distant  points; 
and  perhaps  still  more  through  her  ambition  which 
takes  advantage  of  every  favorable  opportunity,  she 
has  pushed  her  way  till  from  this  former  outpost  on 
the  Volga  she  has  gone  almost  to  Kuldja  and  Kash- 
gar ;  nay,  till  at  one  point  but  a  hundred  miles  in- 
tervene between  her  rule  and  that  of  the  Rajah  of 
Cashmere ;  while  to  the  east  she  has  seized  upon 
the  Amoor,  the  great  river  outlet  of  central  Asia, 
which  for  more  than  two  thousand  miles  rolls 
through  a  region  rich  in  forests  and  pastures,  in 
meadows  and  mines,  down  to  its  mouth,  where, 
guarded  now  by  the  guns  of  the  fortress  of  Nik- 
olaefsk,  it  pours  its  majestic  tide  into  the  Pacific,  at 
the  Okhotsk  Sea. 

Wherever  Russia  gains  a  foothold  she  raises  a 
fort  and  lays  down  a  military  road,  along  which,  if 
it  be  needful,  she  digs  wells ;  and  her  daring  pio- 
neers, the  Cossacks,  are  both  builders  and  guards- 
men. Next  she  establishes  a  fair  at  which  the  na- 
tives can  buy  or  barter  after  their  own  fashion,  and 


158  THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST. 

speedily  the  surrounding  country  is  under  her  con- 
trol. The  Fair  of  Nijni  was  opened  on  what  was 
then  the  frontier  of  Asia.  The  Fair  of  libit  is  the 
centre  of  trade  for  western  Siberia ;  and  through 
the  steppes  and  all  along  the  Amoor  and  its  afflu- 
ents, it  is  at  the  yermaks  (fairs)  that  the  Rus- 
sian merchants  and  Cossacks  barter  their  bright 
cloths  and  beads  and  ribbons  for  the  horses  and 
cattle  of  the  Kirghizes ;  and  exchange  their  flour 
and  powder  and  lead  and  whiskey  for  the  fox  and 
squirrel  and  sable  skins  of  the  Toungouz  and  Goldi 
and  Gelyak  hunters. 

Since  that  bright  Sunday  morning,  when  the 
bells  of  Samara  brought  her  victories  to  mind,  she 
has  added  "  silken  Samai*cand,"  the  capital  of  Ti- 
mour,  to  her  possessions ;  and  so  far  overcome  the 
"  noble  Bokhara  "  that  its  emir,  hereditary  "  Keep- 
er of  the  Faith  "  of  Islam,  has  allowed  her  to  con- 
struct three  fortresses  on  the  border  which  virtually 
command  his  territory ;  has  given  liberty  and  pro- 
tection to  Russian  trade  ;  and  has  even  sent  his  son 
to  St.  Petersburg  to  beg  the  Emperor's  assistance 
in  securing  him  succession  to  the  throne  —  thus  de- 
claring himself  her  vassal.  At  Tashkend  she  has 
established   the   "  Bank  of  Central   Asia,"  with  a 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST.  159 

branch  at  Orenburg,  and  founded  a  library  where 
are  already  gathered  many  manuscripts  important 
to  the  history  of  the  region  ;  while  a  journal,  the 
"  Tashkend  Messenger,"  records  duly  the  news  of 
the  West  and  the  state  of  trade  along  the  fron- 
tier. 

Independent  Turkestan  will  soon  cease  to  exist. 
Its  cities  of  mysterious  and  poetic  renown  will 
be  but  garrisons  for  Russian  governors  ;  and  the 
fertile  fields  of  the  Oxus  and  the  Jaxartes  with 
their  silk,  their  cotton,  their  grain,  their  fruit,  and 
the  boundless  steppes  that  stretch  away  on  either 
hand,  yielding  herds  and  flocks  innumerable,  will 
be  but  tributary  to  Russian  commerce  and  Russian 
pride. 

Perhaps  this  is  but  the  natural  and  necessary 
result  of  her  position.  Certainly  it  is  a  beneficent 
change  which  brings  law  and  order  and  the  germs 
of  a  purer  religion  and  a  better  civilization  into  this 
realm  of  ignorance  and  reckless  rule  ;  and  for  the 
progress  of  the  world  we  may  desire  the  swift 
coming  of  the  day  when  the  Czar  shall  be  acknowl- 
edged as  the  Great  White  Khan  by  all  the  tribes 
from  the  Volga  to  the  mountains  of  Thibet  and 
the  Chinese  Wall.     But  when  I  read  of  a  scene 


160  THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST. 

like  that  which  the  traveller  Atkinson  describes, 
where  coming  towards  nightfall  to  a  valley  of  the 
Alatau  range  he  was  warmly  welcomed  by  a 
Kirghiz  chief  who  sat  at  the  door  of  his  yourt,  in 
the  midst  of  that  superb  landscape,  with  his  flocks 
and  herds  feeding  all  about  him  on  the  mountain 
slopes ;  or  of  the  migration  of  the  tribes  and  their 
herds  to  the  high  summer  pastures ;  or  of  the 
group  he  encountered  at  an  encampment  on  the 
plain,  whose  patriarch  rose  to  receive  him  and 
made  room  for  him  on  his  own  carpet  where,  en- 
circled by  his  family  and  followers,  he  listened  to  a 
bard  singino;  before  him  the  brave  deeds  of  his 
ancestors,  —  I  wish  these  Turkish,  Tartar  tribes 
could  be  developed  and  elevated  in  ways  congenial 
to  their  own  instincts  and  peculiarities,  and  not 
forced  to  accept  our  modes  of  life  and  thought. 
In  mind  and  manners  and  costume  the  world  tends 
towards  a  uniformity  which  is  fatal  to  individuality 
and  picturesqueness.  Let  the  plundering  foray 
and  the  deadly  feud  be  done  away ;  but  perpetuate 
the  daring,  the  simplicity,  the  hospitality,  the  manly 
exercises  and  the  easy  robes  of  these  shepherds  of 
the  steppes  —  inherited,  it  may  be,  from  the  first 
rover  who  left  his  fellows  to  pitch  his  tent  on  the 
open  plain  ! 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST.  161 

Yet  it  is  with  her  gaze  fixed  always  on  the  South 
that  Russia  advances  in  the  East ;  and  while  her 
word  is  becoming  law  for  the  vast  central  region 
beyond  the  Volga,  while  she  covers  the  Caspian 
and  the  Euxine  with  her  fleets,  and  from  the 
mountains  of  the  Caucasus  and  ancient  Ararat 
threatens  Asia  Minor,  she  can  bide  her  time  for  the 
possession  of  the  Fair  City  by  the  Golden  Horn. 

"  How  soon,"  I  asked  of  a  Russian  on  the  Black 
Sea,  —  "  how  soon  do  you  think  to  gain  Constanti- 
nople?" 

"  Ah,"  he  replied,  "  I  cannot  tell.  It  may  be 
ten  years ;  it  may  be  a  hundred  ;  but  Constanti- 
nople is  ours." 

"  That  will  be  a  proud  day  when  you  uncover 
the  frescoes  of  Justinian  on  the  walls  of  St.  Sophia, 
and  rear  the  cross  above  its  sacred  dome." 

"Yes,  a  proud  day  for  Russia  and  for  the  Church. 
God  grant  I  may  live  to  see  it !  " 

And  when  the  day  comes  ; —  when  it  is  Russia 
from  the  White  Sea  to  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and 
from  the  Carpathians  to  the  Pacific ;  when  the 
long  dream  of  the  Muscovites  has  become  a  reality 
and  the  Czar's  summer  palace  is  by  the  Bosphorus 
instead  of  the  Bay  of  Yalta  ;  when  the  city  of 
11 


162  THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  EAST. 

Constantine  is  again  the  head  of  the  Eastern 
Church,  and  the  glory  has  come  back  to  St.  Sophia 
—  the  music,  the  incense,  the  splendid  ceremonial 
that  dazzled  and  won  the  first  Russian  envoys ; 
and  when,  with  the  dignity  of  the  ages  and  more 
than  the  authority  of  any  Romish  Vatican,  she 
gives  the  law  to  all  of  her  creed  —  what  Power  will 
be  the  peer  of  the  Empire  of  the  East  ? 

There  will  be  but  one.  The  Power  that,  like 
her,  calls  a  continent  its  own  —  under  whose 
banner  all  races  dwell  securely  and  every  man  of 
them  a  Czar  —  whose  religion  is  more  Orthodox 
than  the  Faith  of  the  Greeks  ;  for,  through  ordina- 
tion older  than  that  of  bishop  or  patriarch,  each 
soul  is  free  to  find  God  in  its  own  way  —  the  Power 
grand  as  the  Empire  —  the  Republic  of  the  West  1 


THE   VOLGA    TO   KAMYSCHIN. 


THE  VOLGA,  TO   KAMYSCHIN. 


And  still  we  kept  the  Volga's  tide, 

The  Volga  rolling  gray  and  wide ; 

While  the  gulls  of  the  Caspian  over  it  flew, 

A  flash  of  silver  and  jet  in  the  sun, 
And,  chill  though  the  blast  from  the  Oural  blew, 

Circled  and  hovered  till  day  was  done. 

Faint,  in  the  lulls  of  the  wind,  from  shore 

Came  the  lowing  of  herds  that  roved  the  plain  ; 
And  the  bells  rang  over  the  water's  roar 

Calling  the  hamlet  to  holy  fane. 
And  slowly  the  fishers  of  Astrakhan 

Stemmed  the  current  with  laden  keel; 
While  the  barges  the  Kama  peasants  man, 
And  the  barks  of  the  Oka  past  them  ran, 

Heaped  with  iron  and  wheat  and  steel ; 
And  as  far  as  the  wind  could  wander  free, 

On  either  side  was  the  grassy  sea. 

rnilROUGH  the   broad   streets  we  walked  leis- 
urely down  to  take  the  afternoon  boat  which 
was  to  leave  the   wharf  at  three  o'clock.      Few 


166  THE  VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN. 

women  were  to  be  seen,  but  groups  of  men  stood 
on  the  corners  or  strolled  about,  many  of  them 
rough,  wild  looking  people  with  sandals  of  basket- 
work  and  strips  of  coarse  cloth  wrapped  around 
their  legs.  From  a  cellar  a  man  emerged  and 
strode  past  us  who  startled  me  by  his  resemblance 
to  a  North  American  Indian  ;  the  same  brown  skin 
and  high  cheek  bones  and  straight  black  hair,  with 
a  blanket  flung  over  his  shoulders  like  a  true  Ute 
or  Pawnee.  He  was  a  Kalmuck  from  the  steppe, 
and,  whatever  ethnologists  may  say,  his  race  always 
vividly  recalled  the  Red  man. 

On  the  river  again,  flowing  west  now,  instead  of 
east,  and  bearing  us  with  every  wave  farther  from 
Samara  and  Orenburg  and  the  strange  regions  to 
which  they  are  the  gates.  Taking  a  last  look  at 
the  town  stretching  along  the  shore  and  over  the 
plain,  with  its  great  pine  warehouses  for  the  re- 
ception of  grain,  its  many  small  dwellings  and  its 
lofty  churches  and  barracks,  we  thought  it  was  not 
unlike  a  crude  city  of  the  prairies. 

The  sky  was  obscured  ;  the  air  cold  ;  the  shores 
low  and  objectless.  A  moonless  night  followed  the 
leaden  day,  and  the  boat  anchored  for  several  hours 
at  a  small  station  where  wood  was  taken  on  —  the 


THE   VOLGA,   TO  KAMYSCHIN.  167 

heavy  sticks  falling  with  such  a  crash  into  the  hold 
that  sleep  was  impossible.  It  is  no  wonder  the 
Russian  forests  have  grown  thin  and  in  some  re- 
gions disappeared.  The  cold  makes  fires  a  neces- 
sity for  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  and  only  wood 
is  used  for  fuel,  while  in  many  provinces  dry  laths 
are  burned  for  lights.  Nearly  all  the  houses  are 
made  of  wood  ;  those  of  the  poorer  classes  of 
hewn  logs.  All  furniture  and  household  utensils 
are  of  wood,  and  a  vast  number  of  young  lindens 
have  been  annually  cut  for  the  manufacture  of 
shoes.  Three  shoots  of  three  years'  growth  are 
required  for  a  single  pair,  and  a  workingman  will 
wear  out  fifty  such  pairs  in  a  year.  Timber  is  one 
of  the  principal  articles  of  inland  traffic ;  the  forests 
of  the  north  and  of  the  Oural  supplying  the 
steppes,  as  with  us  those  of  the  great  lakes  do  the 
prairies.  But  of  late  the  wood  lands  have  received 
much  attention,  and  now  stringent  laws  regulate 
the  felling  of  trees.  Logs  are  sawed  into  planks 
instead  of  being  wasted  by  hewing.  Leather  boots 
are  gradually  supplanting  bark  shoes.  Tallow  can- 
dles are  taking  the  place  of  torches  of  birch  and 
pine.  In  many  districts  live  hedges  supersede 
board    fences,  and  wide  tracts   are   planted  with 


168  THE    VOLGA,   TO  KAMYSCHW. 

larches.  Now,  too,  large  coal  deposits  have  been 
found  in  the  basin  of  the  Don,  along  the  Caspian, 
and  on  the  Kama,  near  Perm. 

As  usual  we  were  on  our  way  with  the  dawn. 
The  shores  were  flat  and  sandy,  and  flocks  of  dark- 
winged  gulls  flew  over  the  river.  At  ten  o'clock 
we  came  to  Volsk,  a  town  of  thirty  thousand  inhab- 
itants, on  the  right  bank,  and  the  centre  of  a  region 
of  orchards  and  gardens  where  the  fruits  and  veg- 
etables suited  to  the  climate  are  grown  and  dis- 
posed  of  chiefly  at  Nijni  Novgorod.  Here  most  of 
the  second  and  third  class  passengers  went  ashore 
to  buy  black  bread  and  water-melons  or  cucumbers 
which  were  lying  in  heaps  on  the  bank  waiting  for 
purchasers. 

Cabbages,  cucumbers,  and  onions  are  the  most 
common  vegetables  of  Russia,  and,  either  fresh  or 
salted,  they  form,  with  the  lower  classes  at  least,  a 
part  of  almost  every  meal.  In  all  the  southern 
provinces  melons  of  large  size  and  excellent  flavor 
are  raised  in  great  numbers  and  sent  from  thence 
up  the  rivers  to  the  north.  What  a  fine  pear  or 
peach  is  to  an  American,  that  a  slice  of  water- 
melon is  to  a  Russian.  Cherries,  and  apples  of 
varieties   brought   originally   from    Astrakhan  and 


THE   VOLGA,   TO  KAMYSCHIN.  1G9 

Persia,  are  common  as  far  north  as  Vladimir ;  but, 
perhaps  because  it  was  too  early  in  the  season,  we 
saw  few  that  were  not  small  and  poor.  All  the 
fruits  of  the  temperate  zone  are  grown  farther 
south ;  and  in  greenhouses,  even  north  of  St.  Pe- 
tersburg, they  are  brought  to  perfection.  Many 
small  fruits  grow  wild,  and  are  eaten  fresh,  and 
made  into  sweetmeats  and  cordials.  The  marshes 
of  the  north  are  red  with  cranberries,  which  supply 
the  place  of  lemons  to  the  inhabitants ;  strawber- 
ries and  blueberries  abound,  and  raspberries,  loved 
of  bears  and  children,  ripen  everywhere.  The 
director  of  a  band  of  laborers  in  a  rural  district 
north  of  Moscow  told  me  that  in  the  raspberry 
season  the  men  in  his  employ  were  desirous  to 
obtain  some  of  the  fruit,  which  was  not  plenty 
there.  They  had  noticed  that  one  of  the  women 
of  the  village  came  home  every  morning  about 
nine  o'clock  with  her  basket  full  of  fine  berries. 
Strangers  in  the  place,  they  asked  her  where  she 
found  them.  She  refused  to  tell,  and  they  deter- 
mined the  next  morning  to  watch  and  fullow  her. 
Suspecting  their  intention,  she  was  up  and  off  with 
the  dawn  ;  but  just  as  they  had  risen  she  came 
flying  back  to  the  village  half  wild  with  terror,  her 


170  THE   VOLGA,   TO  KAMYSCHIN. 

basket  gone,  her  dress  torn,  and  her  hair  streaming 
over  her  shoulders.  As  soon  as  she  could  speak 
she  said  that  she  had  walked  to  the  raspberry  patch 
as  usual  and  was  quietly  filling  her  basket  when 
just  before  her  she  saw  an  enormous  bear  standing 
on  his  hind  legs,  and  with  his  fore  paws  drawing 
the  bushes  to  his  mouth  and  leisurely  devouring 
the  fruit.  Leaping  to  the  path,  and  imagining  the 
bear  in  close  pursuit,  she  ran  at  the  top  of  her 
speed  across  the  fields  and  never  stopped  till  she 
had  reached  her  own  door.  Her  secret  garden  was 
discovered,  but  the  villagers  sought  in  vain  through 
the  summer  months  for  the  bear.  Perhaps  he  was 
reserved  for  a  grander  end  when  in  mid-winter  the 
vapor  of  his  breath  disclosing  to  the  keen-eyed 
peasants  his  den  beneath  the  snow,  the  Czar  him- 
self, in  a  royal  hunt,  gave  him  his  death  wound. 
Hazel-nuts  are  common,  and,  in  the  Oural,  the 
spicy  nuts  of  the  cedar.  Thus,  though  compara- 
tively little  attention  is  paid  to  horticulture,  the 
Russians,  even  of  the  north,  are  not  so  destitute 
of  fruits  and  vegetables  as  would  at  first  appear. 

Wood  was  brought  on  board  here  by  two  women 
fastened  together  with  straps  over  their  shoulders, 
to  which  poles,  some  four  feet  in  length,  were  at- 


THE   VOLGA,   TO  KAMYSCHIN.  171 

tached,  and  across  these  the  sticks  were  laid. 
Stout  and  hardy  as  men,  bare-headed,  with  short, 
coarse  petticoats  and  loose  jackets,  they  went  to 
and  fro  till  the  last  load  was  transferred  to  the 
hold,  steady  and  stolid  and  untiring  as  well-trained 
mnles  or  oxen. 

Below  Volsk  the  river  widens,  flowing  with  a 
slow,  majestic  current.  As  we  dropped  down  its 
tide  great  steamers  and  rafts  from  Astrakhan  and 
the  Caspian  passed  us  on  their  way  to  the  north, 
many  of  them  laden  with  the  products  of  the  fish- 
eries. For  of  all  the  rivers  and  seas  of  the  world 
none  are  more  abundantly  stocked  with  fish  than 
the  Volga  and  the  Caspian  ;  indeed,  at  some  sea- 
sons, the  stream  below  Astrakhan,  and  the  sea, 
near  its  mouth,  are  literally  crowded  with  the  finny 
tribes.  The  most  important  of  these  are  the  va- 
rious species  of  sturgeon,  from  the  small  sterlet,  so 
much  in  repute  for  its  delicate  flavor,  to  the  great 
belugas  which  wei<rh  from  one  to  three  thou- 
sand  pounds.  All  the  affluents  of  the  Volga  are 
filled  with  fish,  but  those  of  the  cold  waters  of  the 
Kama  are  considered  best,  and  there  can  be  no 
greater  table  luxury  to  a  Russian  than  caviare 
made  from  the  roes  of  the  sterlet  of  this  river. 
The  Tartar  name  for  the  Volga  is  Edel  —  Plenty. 


172  THE   VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN. 

Everything  relating  to  the  fisheries  is  regulated 
by  law.  They  employ  many  thousands  of  men 
and  boats  through  a  large  part  of  the  year,  and 
furnish  vast  quantities,  not  only  of  fresh  and  cured 
fish,  but  also  of  caviare,  isinglass,  and  oil,  for  home 
use  and  for  exportation.  Astrakhan  is  the  store- 
house of  the  fisheries,  and  from  thence  their  wealth 
is  distributed  over  the  empire.  For  some  time 
after  the  conquest  of  this  Khanate,  the  fisheries, 
which  had  been  diligently  maintained  by  the  Tar- 
tars, were  the  property  of  the  Church.  Then  they 
reverted  to  the  Crown,  and  later,  upon  the  payment 
of  an  annual  tribute,  they  passed  into  the  hands  of 
private  companies,  but  for  more  than  fifty  years 
they  have  been  free  to  all. 

At  five  o'clock  we  reached  Saratoff,  the  most 
populous  city  on  the  Volga,  with  bazaars,  annual 
fairs,  and  great  trade  in  fish,  grain,  salt,  cattle, 
leather  and  skins.  Yet,  large  as  it  is,  it  lacks  the 
dignity  and  beauty  of  Kazan.  Its  streets,  broad 
and  well-built  as  they  are  towards  the  river,  end  in 
forlorn,  sandy  roads  bordered  with  poor  cabins  that 
straggle  up  the  bare,  barren  slope  beyond  the  town. 
The  Volga  here  is  a  superb  stream,  three  miles 
wide   at  low   water,  and  fifteen   miles   during  the 


THE   VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN.  173 

floods  of  spring,  when  it  inundates  the  low  lands  to 
the  east. 

We  took  droskies,  in  form  like  an  Irish  jaunt- 
ing-car, and  drove  up  the  steep  hill  through  the 
principal  streets.  The  bells  for  some  church  ser- 
vice were  ringing  blithe  and  clear  beneath  the  star- 
spangled  domes  of  the  belfries ;  but  the  busy  day 
was  not  yet  over,-  and  only  a  few  women  seemed 
to  be  responding  to  the  summons.  Aside  from 
their  natural  religious  bias,  I  do  not  wonder  at 
the  devotion  of  the  Russians  to  their  Church  ;  for 
these  lofty  towers,  with  glittering  crosses  and 
pealing  bells,  are  often  all  that  the  landscape  has 
of  beauty  and  cheer. 

Saratoff  is  famous  for  its  manufactures  of  silk 
and  leather,  and  of  gold  and  silver  ware.  At  a 
jeweler's  we  found  many  articles  novel  in  design 
and  exquisite  in  finish  —  bells  of  silver-gilt  in  the 
shape  of  a  pear,  supported  on  a  branch  with 
leaves  ;  salvers  and  pitchers  rich  with  clustering 
flowers  in  dark  enamel,  and  various  personal  orna- 
ments of  the  beautiful  crystals  of  the  Oural. 
Here,  too,  were  well-executed  bronze  statuettes 
of  Lincoln  exposed  in  the  window  —  the  grave, 
Kindly  face  having  the  same  charm  on  the  Volga 
as  l>v  the  Sangamon. 


174  THE   VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN. 

Standing  in  the  handsome  square,  with  gay 
spires  and  roofs  rising  about  us,  and  carriages 
dashing  past,  we  might  quite  have  admired  bust- 
ling, ambitious  Saratoff,  if  we  could  have  shut 
from  view  the  dreary  sand-hills  and  mean  huts 
beyond. 

The  boat  lay  all  night  at  her  moorings,  and 
having  become  accustomed  to  the  saloon  divan  for 
a  couch,  we  slept  quietly  beside  the  noisy  bank. 
The  next  day  was  wonderfully  clear,  with  a 
strong,  cold  wind  blowing  from  sunrise  to  sunset, 
and  covering  with  white  waves  the  broad,  gray 
river.  The  shores  were  low,  scarcely  above  the 
water's  edge,  or  else  mere  sandy  bluffs  stretching 
off  to  the  plain.  All  day  the  most  noticeable  ob- 
jects were  the  great  herds  of  cattle,  sometimes 
feeding  near  the  brink,  sometimes  just  visible  on 
the  horizon.  Yet  this  monotonous  region  has  been 
the  scene  of  more  migrations,  tumults,  battles,  and 
piracies  than  almost  any  other  on  earth.  For  we 
were  now  parallel  to  that  open  space  of  nearly 
three  hundred  miles  between  the  Caspian  and 
the  Oural ;  the  gate  through  which  the  tribes  of 
Asia  have  always  poured    into   Europe,  from  the 


THE  VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN.  175 

first  adventurers  timidly  entering  unknown  lands, 
to  the  fierce  Huns,  the  hordes  of  Genghis  and 
Timour,  and  the  later  companies  of  Kalmucks, 
Turkomans,  and  Tartars  roaming  to  and  fro  as 
fancy  or  necessity  might  decide.  As  the  gusty 
wind  swept  over  the  boat,  the  shouts  of  Hun  and 
Mongol  and  Tartar,  and  the  shrieks  and  death- 
cries  of  their  victims,  seemed  to  live  and  linger 
in  its  wail. 

Under  a  splendid  sunset  we  came  to  anchor 
at  Kamyschin,  a  small  place  with  the  usual  bar- 
racks, and  warehouses  for  grain.  As  at  Volsk, 
heaps  of  melons  and  poor  apples  were  for  sale  on 
the  bank,  and  a  flight  of  steep  stairs  led  to  the 
streets  beyond.  For  at  the  breaking  up  of  win- 
ter the  Volga  becomes  an  inland  sea,  and  thus, 
as  on  the  Mississippi,  the  highest  points  are  se- 
lected for  the  towns.  As  we  walked  about  we 
heard  that  a  theatrical  company  had  arrived,  and 
would  give  a  performance  at  eight  o'clock,  ad- 
mittance one  ruble.  Glad  of  a  little  variety, 
tickets  were  purchased,  and  just  before  the  time 
we  went  to  the  designated  building.  A  crowd 
of  shabbily  dressed  people  stood  about  and  looked 
on   with   evident   envy,  as  the    door-keeper  made 


176  THE   VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN\ 

way  for  us  and  handed  us  two  programmes  of  the 
entertainment,  written  with  a  pen,  in  Russ,  and 
each  covering  two  pages  of  foolscap.  For  all  the 
good  they  did  us,  he  might  as  well  have  furnished 
us  with  a  list  of  the  plays  in  the  moon.  I  doubt 
if  the  alphabet  of  that,  or  any  other  orb,  would 
be  so  tormenting  to  the  American  eye  as  is  the 
written  Russ,  with  its  letters  so  like,  and  yet  so 
unlike  our  own,  deluding  and  baffling  at  every  line. 
It  was  a  barn-like  structure  into  which  we  en- 
tered ;  its  floor  of  earth  and  its  seats  rude  benches. 
An  audience  of  perhaps  a  hundred  people,  half  of 
them  army  officers  with  their  families,  waited  the 
opening  of  the  entertainment.  Eight  o'clock  came, 
but  the  fall  of  faded  calico,  which  hid  the  stage 
and  wavered  in  the  wind  that  found  entrance  on 
every  side,  refused  to  rise.  Voices  as  in  angry 
altercation  were  heard  behind  it,  now  repressed, 
now  rising  with  the  passion  of  the  speaker ;  and 
although  profane  swearing  is  almost  unknown  in 
Russia,  if  we  had  been  familiar  with  the  language 
we  should  doubtless  have  heard  some  astonishing 
epithets.  Ten,  fifteen,  twenty  minutes  passed 
thus,  while  the  three  weary  musicians  laid  down 
their  instruments,  and  the  candles  flared  and  the 


THE  .VOLGA,  TO  KAMYSCHIN.  177 

curtain  trembled  in  the  draught.  The  seats  were 
hard ;  the  sandy  floor  cold ;  yet  there  was  no 
calling,  or  hissing,  or  stamping  of  feet,  but  all,  in 
patient  silence,  waited  the  pleasure  of  the  per- 
formers. At  length,  their  quarrels  over,  there 
was  a  stir  and  rustle,  and  the  thin  screen  rose 
slowly,  disclosing  a  farm-house  interior,  with  a 
pretty  young  girl  in  peasant  costume  standing  by 
the  table,  in  earnest  conversation  with  her  lover, 
who  was  evidently  agitated  and  fearful  of  being 
discovered  by  the  family.  I  could  not  see  how 
their  wooing:  was  in  au<rht  different  from  that  of 
the  lovers  of  the  West,  or  their  grief  less  heart- 
breaking than  theirs,  when  the  enraged  father 
burst  in  and,  rudely  seizing  his  daughter,  compelled 
the  young  man  to  fly.  The  action  was  natural 
and  spirited,  and  the  audience  listened  with  closest 
attention.  But  as  only  now  and  then  a  word  was 
intelligible  to  us,  the  cold  got  the  better  of  our 
enthusiasm,  and  we  left  at  the  end  of  the  first 
act,  without  waiting  to  see  whether  Romeo  and 
Juliet  went  forward  to  a  wedding;  or  a  funeral. 

The  throng  outside  was  greater  than  when  we 
came  —  poor  people,  to  whom  a  ruble  was  a  little 
fortune,  pushing  close  to  the  door  that  they  might 

12 


178  THE   VOLGA,  TO  KAMYS-CHIN. 

catch  some  word  or  hint  of  the  delight  within. 
For  a  love  of  music  and  the  drama  is  the  birth- 
gift  of  the  Slavonians,  though,  in  cultured  guise, 
they  have  been,  thus  far,  almost  out  of  the  reach 
of  any  but  the  upper  classes.  But  with  the  new 
life  of  the  nation,  art  in  all  its  manifestations  will 
gradually  come  to  be  a  universal  inheritance,  and 
only  the  future  can  show  what  rare  forms  grace 
and  beauty  and  harmony  will  assume  with  this 
people  whose  development  has  hardly  begun,  and 
in  whom  the  European  and  the  Asiatic  are  so 
subtly  blended. 

Over  the  western  steppes  the  wind  had  gone 
down  with  the  sun,  and  as,  in  the  darkness,  we 
descended  the  stairs  and  crossed  the  platform  to 
the  boat,  there  was  no  sound  but  the  ripple  of 
the  river  beneath  her  bows. 


KALMUCKS  AND   MORAVIANS. 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 


Farewell,  O  River  of  the  Plain, 

O  River  of  the  Sea  1 
Fain  would  I  follow  to  the  main 

Thy  current  strong  and  free ; 
And  find,  beyond  thy  reedy  islands, 
The  sullen  Caspian's  ocean  silence. 

The  Kalmuck  girls  with  braided  hair, 

And  cap  of  scarlet  crown, 
Beside  their  tents,  in  evening  fair, 

Will  watch  thy  tide  go  down  ; 
And  songs  of  the  steppe  and  its  rovers  sing, 
Their  swarthy  lovers  listening. 

And  Kirghis,  dark  with  desert  suns, 

Will  halt  beside  thy  brink, 
While  the  steed,  the  brackish  spring  that  shuns, 

Stoops  low,  thy  wave  to  drink ; 
Then,  fresh  and  fleet  as  at  dawn  of  day, 
Over  the  plain  they'll  haste  away. 

Farewell.     I  feel  the  west  wind  blow ; 
The  Asian  dream  is  o'er ; 


182  KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 

And  Europe  's  in  the  sunset  glow, 

That  gilds  thy  sandy  shore. 
I  go  where  other  streams  will  shine, 
But  none  so  lone,  so  grand  as  thine. 

\TTE  had  purposed  keeping  the  Volga  as  far  as 
"  Astrakhan,  that  we  might  see  something  of 
the  City  of  the  Islands,  and  of  the  seventy  arms  by 
which  the  great  river  discharges  its  wraters  ;  but 
the  season  was  unhealthy  along  the  Caspian,  and 
reluctantly  the  plan  was  abandoned. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  next  morning  we  reached 
Tzaritsin,  from  whence  we  were  to  find  our  way 
south  by  the  railway,  seventy-five  versts  in  length, 
to  Kalatch  on  the  Don,  and  thence  by  steamer 
down  that  river.  Too  late,  however,  for  the  morn- 
ing train,  we  decided  to  go  twenty  miles  farther  on 
the  Volga  to  Sarepta,  returning  in  the  evening. 

The  country  about  Tzaritsin  is  fertile  and  at- 
tractive, compared  with  the  arid,  saline  steppes  and 
marshes  of  the  lower  river.  In  April,  which  is 
here  the  loveliest  month  of  the  year,  the  fields  and 
plains  are  bright  with  crocuses  and  red  and  yellow 
tulips,  and  rich  with  succulent  grasses,  luxurious 
food  for  the  herds  that,  unhoused,  have  supported 
the  cold  of  winter.     But  the  hot  winds  from  the 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS.  183 

southeast  soon  destroy  the  verdure,  and  the  earth 
is  parched  and  bare  till  autumn  rains  bring  forth  a 
new  generation  of  plants  and  flowers.  On  our 
right  was  the  rolling  plain  reaching  to  the  Don  ;  on 
our  left  the  wide  and  barren  steppe  of  the  Oural, 
still  called  the  Kalmuck  steppe,  from  its  occupation 
by  the  Mongolian  horde  that  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  last  century  took  the  long  march  to  Chinese 
Tartary  rather  than  submit  to  the  rule  of  the  Rus- 
sians. Since  then  their  old  conquerors  have  taken 
a  long  march  also,  and  the  followers  of  Buddha 
only  postponed  their  fate.  The  thousands  whom 
various  circumstances  compelled  to  remain,  are 
scattered  over  the  country  between  the  Sea  of 
Azoff  and  the  Kirghiz  frontier. 

This  region  was  once  the  residence  of  the  Tartar 
Golden  Horde,  and  ruins  are  yet  found,  a  little 
way  to  the  east,  where  their  capital  is  fabled  to 
have  stood.  Near  the  river,  plantations  of  mul- 
berry trees,  now  mixed  with  other  growths  of  the 
forest,  and  of  which  the  Russians  have  no  record, 
survive  to  tell  of  their  skillful  industry.  The  trees 
still  bring  forth  leaves  and  fruit,  but  where  are  the 
Khans  clad  in  silk  and  glittering  with  gems,  whose 
word  was   law  over   these    steppes   and  streams  ? 


184  KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 

And  whither  have  they  fled,  the  dark-eyed  beau- 
ties, with  braided  hair  and  flowing  robes,  who  min- 
istered to  their  delight  ? 

Wherever  the  shore  was  low  and  open,  we  had 
glimpses  of  a  country  burnt  and  brown  as  Califor 
nia  at  midsummer,  but  without  the  evergreen  oaks 
which  in  that  American  Asia  preserve  always  the 
memory  of  spring.  On  the  steppe,  to  the  east, 
grow  wild  rue,  and  a  species  of  wormwood  not  un- 
like the  sage-brush  of  our  western  plains.  Heath 
hens,  and  small,  fleet  antelopes  feed  on  it  during 
the  season  of  drought ;  while  the  reedy  marshes 
along  the  river  are  filled  with  water-fowl  that  sub- 
sist upon  the  small  grains  and  seeds  of  their  various 
plants  and  grasses. 

Of  the  many  German  colonies  along  the  Volga, 
Sarepta  is  perhaps  the  most  important.  It  was 
founded  a  hundred  years  ago  as  a  Moravian  mis- 
sionary station  among  the  Kalmucks,  and  was  then 
the  only  settlement  between  Tzaritsin  and  Astra- 
khan. To  guard  it  from  the  incursions  of  wander- 
ing  tribes  it  was  fortified,  and  had  the  protection  of 
a  small  resident  garrison.  Rare  privileges  were 
granted  it  by  the  Imperial  government ;  for  then, 
as  now,  wherever  Germans  were  found,  there  was 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS.  185 

the  nucleus  of  a  better  civilization.  Priestly  efforts 
to  bring  the  Kalmucks  into  the  Orthodox  com- 
munion  interfered  with  the  religious  plans  of  the 
colony,  but  in  material  things  it  is  both  prosperous 
and  influential. 

We  landed  at  a  wooden  pier,  near  which  was  a 
small  station-house  that  overhung  the  water,  and 
in  an  open  wagon  rode  over  the  two  or  three  versts 
that  lay  between  the  river  and  the  town.  The  soil 
was  sandy,  and  part  of  the  way  a  growth  of  low 
oaks  and  pines  lined  the  road.  The  village,  with  its 
yellow  houses  built  about  a  square,  looks  thoroughly 
German,  and  a  little  like  a  settlement  of  Shakers. 
Its  five  hundred  inhabitants  are  a  most  industrious, 
thrifty  community.  From  their  cattle,  their  fish- 
eries, their  flax  and  tobacco,  their  manufactures  of 
cotton  and  linen  fabrics,  of  soap  and  of  brandy, 
they  derive  an  excellent  income ;  and  among  the 
idle,  ignorant  population  about  them  they  are  a 
perpetual  proof  of  the  advantages  of  intelligent 
labor.  They  employ  their  Kalmuck  neighbors  in 
the  fields  and  as  herdsmen  whenever  they  can  ob- 
tain them,  but  it  is  only  at  intervals  that  this  peo- 
ple, whose  wants  are  so  few,  will  forsake  the  lazy 
quiet  which  is  to  them  the  first  of  luxuries. 


186  KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 

Wishing  to  have  a  sight  of  these  Russian  Mon- 
gols, relics  of  the  half  million  that  followed  their 
Khan  back  to  the  pastures  of  Central  Asia,  we 
took  a  Moravian  guide  and  drove  straight  through 
the  town  to  the  steppe  beyond  —  the  great  rolling 
plain  that  loses  itself  in  the  salt  waves  of  the  Cas- 
pian. At  the  distance  of  a  verst  we  came  to  some 
of  their  tents  or  yourts ;  round  frames  of  wood 
covered  with  skins,  with  a  curtain  of  skin  hano-ing 
before  the  opening — just  such  habitations  as  shel- 
ter their  kindred  in  Mongolia  and  Tartary,  and 
which  for  ages  have  not  changed  their  shape  or 
size.  We  entered  several  and  were  pleasantly  re- 
ceived by  the  inmates.  The  space  within  was 
like  that  of  an  ordinary  room,  and  the  only  furni- 
ture a  wooden  chest  or  two,  and  sheep-skins  and 
blankets  serving  as  carpets  by  day  and  beds  by 
night.  On  the  ground,  in  the  middle  of  the  tent, 
was  a  fire  of  roots  and  dry  dung,  burning  without 
blaze  but  with  a  steady  glow,  and  about  it  the  in- 
mates reclined  or  sat  cross-legged,  the  elder  women 
at  work  upon  some  of  their  coarse  garments,  and 
the  half-grown  children  and  the  few  men  present 
lolling  about  in  absolute  idleness.  They  were  very 
dark  but  had  a  rich  color  with  straight,  jet-black 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS.  187 

hair,  and  in  spite  of  the  flat  nose  and  high  cheek 
bones  some  of  them  were  really  handsome.  If 
the  Huns  were  Kalmucks,  and  Herodotus  pictures 
them  truly,  the  race,  judging  from  those  of  Sarepta, 
has  vastly  improved  since  his  day.  As  we  entered 
one  tent  a  young  girl  retreated  timidly  to  the  far- 
ther side  and  stood,  regarding  us,  in  an  attitude 
which  was  grace  itself.  Her  features  were  less 
marked  than  those  of  her  companions,  and  in  every 
glance  and  movement  there  was  a  soft  languor  as 
charming  as  it  was  un-European.  She  doubtless 
wore,  like  all  the  rest,  a  long  garment  tied  loosely 
about  the  waist ;  but  I  only  remember  her  easy 
pose  and  the  high  cap  of  scarlet  and  yellow  beneath 
which  her  dark  hair  descended  to  her  shoulders. 
Such  a  Mongol  maiden  must  have  been  the  bride 
of  the  earth-spirit  —  the  fabled  virgin  mother  of 
the  great  Genghis;  and  in  this  Kalmuck  girl  of  the 
Volga  I  fancied  I  saw  again  the  flowering  of  her 
race. 

All  the  men  and  women  wore  earrings,  —  some 
of  them  a  large  ring  in  one  ear  only,  —  and  on  their 
heads  a  lamb-skin  turban,  those  of  the  women 
having  a  centre  of  bright  cloth.  The  very  young 
children  rolled  about,  nearly  naked,  upon  the  skins 


188  KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 

before  the  fire,  while  the  elder  amused  themselves 
outside  and  seemed  much  pleased  with  the  gift  of  a 
few  kopecks  and  confections. 

These  Mongolians  are  probably  on  the  way  to 
civilization,  but,  undeveloped  as  they  are,  in  the 
tameness  and  security  of  their  present  life  they  are 
far  less  interesting  than  their  Asiatic  kindred,  to 
whom  daring  bravery  and  skill  in  horsemanship,  in 
the  chase,  and  in  arts  of  defense  and  aggression,  are 
necessities  of  existence.  Any  one  is  a  prince 
among  them  who  possesses  flocks  of  sheep ;  and 
their  severest  malediction  is,  "  May  you  live  in  one 
place  and  work  like  a  Russian  !  " 

As  we  walked  away  we  saw  sheep-skins  stretched 
over  poles,  and  rows  of  flat  cakes  of  dung  set  up 
to  dry  in  the  sun,  but  neither  grain,  nor  shrub,  nor 
flower  planted  by  the  hand  of  man.  A  few  horses 
fed  on  the  brown  grass  at  the  edge  of  the  pine 
woods,  and  in  front  was  the  interminable  plain. 

It  was  a  pleasant  change  from  the  Mongol  tents 
to  the  quaint,  neat  parlor  of  the  Moravian  hotel, 
with  its  plain,  ancient  furniture  and  blue-painted 
walls.  Here  we  had  lunch  —  toast  and  tea,  with 
new-laid   eggs   and   bacon  —  served  by  a  comely 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS.  189 

maiden  in  a  checked  cotton  dress,  with  her  fair 
hair  braided  and  coiled  in  true  German  fashion. 
Everything  about  the  house  bespoke  order,  thrift, 
and  extreme  simplicity.  Good  water  was  brought  in 
pipes  from  a  spring  a  mile  distant,  and  about  every 
house  were  vegetable  gardens.  Kindly,  industri- 
ous people  are  these  Moravians ;  and  if  they  are 
not  now  the  earnest  propagators  of  their  faith  they 
were  a  hundred  years  since,  as  agriculturists  and 
peaceful,  moral  citizens  they  are  still  missionaries. 

At  six  o'clock  we  went  back  to  the  river  to  meet 
the  boat  for  Tzaritsin.  In  the  small  cabin  by  the 
pier  lived  a  Russian  and  his  wife  whose  charge  it 
was  to  attend  to  the  passengers  and  freight  of  the 
landing.  The  woman,  stout  and  florid,  was  a  very 
rainbow  in  attire.  She  had  a  green  skirt  with  a 
red  waist ;  a  bright  plaid  apron  ;  blue  and  yellow 
beads  and  earrings,  and  a  pink  cap  with  purple 
strings  ;  and  from  their  midst  her  round,  smiling 
face  beamed  like  the  full  moon. 

We  sat  by  the  window  looking  down  the  broad 
river  towards  Astrakhan  and  watching  for  the 
steamer.  On  the  platform  without  were  two  or 
three  peasants  catching  silver  fish  —  tiny  creatures, 
like  sardines  for  size,  that  glittered  in  the  sun  as 


190  KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 

they  were  drawn  up  the  high  bank  and  thrown 
into  the  waiting  basket.  There  was  no  sound  but 
the  dash  of  the  river  against  the  shore.  A  few 
laden  rafts  went  by,  and  steamers  upward  bound 
that  did  not  deign  to  call  at  Sarepta.  The  sun 
sank  in  a  blaze  of  gold  with  a  flush  of  the  same  hue 
over  all  the  horizon,  prolonged  till  twilight  and  the 
coming  of  the  stars.  The  air  grew  chill,  and  the 
good-natured  woman  brought  her  shining  samovar 
and  made  us  tea.  At  eight  o'clock  we  learned 
definitely  that  through  some  delay  there  would  be 
no  boat  till  morning,  and  in  a  peasant's  wagon  we 
returned  to  the  village. 

It  was  eighteen  versts  —  twelve  miles  —  across 
the  country  to  Tzaritsin,  and  we  resolved  to  ride 
over.  A  carriage  was  soon  made  ready  ;  a  roomy 
affair  with  four  horses  abreast  and  a  Moravian 
driver.  There  was  no  moon,  but  the  night  was 
clear  and  cold,  with  innumerable  stars,  and  rapidly 
we  sped  along  the  wide,  dusty  road,  over  the  roll- 
ing plain  ;  dismounting  twice,  at  tributaries  of  the 
Volga,  to  walk  across  the  bridges  which  were 
deemed  unsafe  for  a  heavy  carriage.  I  never  re- 
member having  such  a  sense  of  remoteness  and 
isolation    from    my   accustomed   world   as    during 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS.  191 

that  evening  ride.  One  or  two  hamlets  were 
passed  with  lights  twinkling  through  their  win- 
dows, and,  at  a  turn  of  the  road,  some  loaded 
teams  plodding  their  way  to  the  south ;  but  most 
of  the  distance  the  earth  lay  as  void  beneath  the 
sky,  and  the  wind  blew  over  it  as  mournfully,  as  if 
it  had  never  known  the  presence  of  man. 

At  midnight,  descending  the  slope  towards  the 
river,  we  reached  Tzaritsin.  Felicitating  ourselves 
upon  rest  and  quiet  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day, 
we  hastened  through  the  empty  streets  only  to 
learn  that  the  single  hotel  had  been  burned  a  short 
time  previous,  and  that  the  only  place  where  we 
could  spend  the  night  was  the  railway  station.  At 
the  station  then  we  alighted  ;  said  good-night  to 
the  skillful  driver;  returned  with  thanks  the  warm 
wrappings  which  the  kind  villagers  had  furnished 
us ;  and  entered  the  door  to  find  what  cheer  we 
could  in  the  upright  wooden  chairs  and  bare 
benches  of  the  great  saloon. 

Even  now  it  gives  me  a  feeling  of  weariness  to 
think  of  the  utter  discomfort  of  that  night.  There 
was  a  ladies'  room,  but  it  was  crowded  with  moth- 
ers, nurses,  and  crying  children;  and  the  large 
apartment    where    men   were    coming   and   going, 


192  KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS. 

public  though  it  was,  was  far  more  inviting.  Here 
then,  upon  bench  or  chair,  we  disposed  ourselves, 
with  officers,  Cossacks,  peasants,  and  Tartars  for 
companions  ;  some  snoring,  some  pouring  forth  a 
tide  of  Russ  in  narration  and  argument.  Now 
and  then  there  would  come  a  lull  when  even  the 
sleepers  drew  their  breath  quietly;  but  just  as  I 
was  lapsing  into  grateful  oblivion  a  child  would 
scream,  or  the  great  door  opening  on  to  the  street 
slam  with  unusual  violence  ;  and  when  at  last  I  sank 
into  momentary  slumber  it  was  to  dream  that  I  was 
in  a  Kalmuck  tent  arrayed  in  the  tunic  and  high 
cap  of  the  women  —  that  the  tribe  was  about  to  mi- 
grate to  the  plains  of  Tartary  —  and  that  through 
searching  for  my  lost  silver  necklace  I  was  in  dan- 
ger of  being  left  to  the  vengeance  of  the  Russians. 

So  the  long  hours  wore  away  until  daylight 
looked  in  through  the  unshaded  windows  and  the 
whole  caravanserai  was  awake  and  astir.  O  the 
easy  toilets  of  those  shaggy  fellows  !  A  settling 
into  the  enormous  boots ;  a  shake  of  the  head,  the 
fingers  running  through  the  matted  hair ;  a  tio;ht- 
ening  of  the  girdle  about  the  loose  caftan ;  and  they 
were  ready  for  the  day.  One  by  one  the  mothers 
and   nurses   appeared  with  the  children,  most  of 


KALMUCKS  AND  MORAVIANS.  193 

them  now  in  good-humor.  The  waiters  set  the 
steaming  samovars  upon  the  deal  tables,  and  soon 
all  were  busy  making  and  drinking  tea,  sipping  it 
from  glass  tumblers  and  holding  the  sugar  in  the 
hand  as  is  the  universal  custom.  This,  with  bread 
cut  from  the  loaf — often  with  a  knife  carried  in 
the  belt  —  and  perhaps  a  water-melon,  not  deli- 
cately scooped  out  as  with  us,  but  eaten  close  to 
the  rind,  made  up  the  meal. 

Walking  in  the  breezy  open  court  to  dispel  the 
heaviness  of  the  night,  we  heard  the  shrill  whistle 
of  the  locomotive,  and  at  seven  o'clock  went  on 
board  the  train  for  Kalatch. 

Farewell  to  the  noble  current  of  the  Volga ! 
Unwatched  of  our  eyes  it  would  go  down  to  the 
sea,  while  westward  we  followed  its  neighbor  river 
to  the  Euxine. 

13 


THE  COSSACK   COUNTRY 


THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY. 


The  Cossack !  the  Cossack !  his  steed  is  his  throne ; 

On  the  steppe  and  the  desert  his  glory  is  known ; 
For  he  sweeps  like  the  wind  from  the  camp  to  the  fray, 

And  woe  to  the  foe  and  the  flying  that  day  ! 
"  False  Pagan  !  "  he  cries,  "  are  you  slave  —  are  you  Shah — 

Now  die  by  this  lance,  or  take  oath  to  the  Czar ! " 

The  Cossack  !   the  Cossack !  a  flame  of  the  South 
Is  the  glance  of  his  eye,  is  the  word  of  his  mouth, 

For  the  steed  that  he  rides  —  for  the  saint  he  implores  — 
And,  fairer  and  dearer,  the  girl  he  adores. 

The  maiden's  fond  lover  —  the  Czar's  faithful  warder  — 

Ho  I   drink  to  the  Cossack,  from  border  to  border  ! 

rflHE  old  Tartar  Khans,  and  after  them  Peter 
the  Great,  tried  to  construct  a  canal  near 
Tzaritsin,  uniting  the  Volga  and  the  Don.  Inter- 
vening granite  ridges  and  the  lawless  population  of 
the  region  caused  them  to  abandon  the  work.  The 
railway,  fifty  miles  long,  which  now  connects  them, 
—  the  only  one  in  southeastern  Russia  except  the 


198  THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY. 

line  nearly  completed  from  Samara  to  Orenburg, — 
was  built  by  an  American  company,  and  two  trains 
run  over  it  daily  upon  the  arrival  of  the  boats. 
The  only  water  communication  between  the  Black 
Sea  and  the  Caspian  is  a  canal  leading  from  the 
Don,  near  its  source,  to  the  Oka  which  joins  the 
Volga  at  Nijni  Novgorod. 

A  sandy,  rolling,  wind-blown  plain  stretches  from 
river  to  river,  with  neither  trees  nor  marked  undu- 
lations except  along  the  borders  of  the  streams, 
which  run  in  deep  ravines.  Wild  thyme  and  rue 
grow  here  in  abundance  ;  and  melons,  everywhere 
cultivated,  thrive  wonderfully  in  the  light,  warm 
soil.  Here  and  there  were  hamlets  of  rude  houses, 
bare  upon  the  plain,  and  great  flocks  of  sheep  crop- 
ping the  coarse,  brown  grass.  A  little  before  ten 
o'clock  a  line  of  verdure  appeared  on  the  western 
horizon,  and  a  few  minutes  later  we  reached  Ka- 
latch,  by  the  Don.  The  commodious  station  was 
close  to  the  river  bank,  and,  descending  the  long 
stairs,  we  found  the  boat  lying  at  the  wharf  and  not 
to  leave  until  the  next  morning. 

At  Kalatch,  a  small  town  owing  its  existence  to 
the  railway,  the  Don  is  divided  by  an  island,  and 
where  the  boat  lay  it  was  a  narrow  stream,  looking 


THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY.  199 

insignificant  indeed  compared  with  the  majestic  tide 
of  the  Volga.  All  was  quiet  about.  The  few  pas- 
sengers, all  Russians,  who  had  come  over  with  us, 
dropped  into  their  appointed  places  on  deck  or  in 
the  cabin,  and  betook  themselves  to  rest  with  Ori- 
ental resignation.  A  pile  of  bales  and  boxes  was 
being  leisurely  stowed  away  on  board,  the  stout 
porters  moving  as  if  they  knew  they  had  the  day 
before  them.  So,  also,  moved  the  pliant  waiter  of 
whom  we  ordered  breakfast  and  dinner  in  one. 
"Directly,"  was  his  amiable  response,  and  in  ex- 
actly three  hours  we  were  summoned  to  the  table. 

Towards  evening  we  went  on  shore  and  walked 
about  the  town.  The  wide,  dusty  road  leading  to 
it  was  hardly  browner  than  the  sod ;  and  the  coarse 
grass,  undisturbed  by  shrub  or  flower,  grew  to  the 
very  doors.  There  were  perhaps  twenty  good 
houses  of  hewn  logs  built  by  the  Government ;  all 
the  rest  were  poor  cabins.  It  was  market  time  in 
the  central  square,  but  there  was  little  offered  that 
was  inviting,  and  no  fruit  except  small,  sour  apples 
at  five  kopecks  apiece.  However,  business  hours 
were  nearly  over,  and  the  only  customers  we  saw 
were  two  old  women  hobbling  home  with  their 
Dread  and  cucumbers,  and  several  rough  dogs  hang- 

7  o  o  o 

ing  about  the  meat  stall. 


200  THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY. 

With  the  late  train  came  a  multitude  of  passen- 
gers filling  our  boat  to  its  utmost  capacity.  The 
deck  was  crowded  with  people  wrapped  in  sheep- 
skins and  coarse  blankets,  and  carrying  their  pro 
visions  —  tea,  black  bread,  and  often  dried  fish  an 
melons.  The  saloon,  where  we  were  already  estab- 
lished, was  appropriated  to  the  "  first  class  "  lady 
voyagers,  who  came  in  with  exclamations  of  fatigue, 
and,  throwing  off  their  travelling  garments,  slipped 
into  the  amplest  of  dressing-gowns,  and  sinking 
down  on  the  pillows  they  had  brought,  abandoned 
themselves  to  the  luxury  of  cigarettes.  I  had  al- 
ready become  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  women 
smoking.  Indeed,  I  doubt  if  ever  Turk  or  Russian 
was  more  devoted  to  tobacco  than  a  lady  from  Bu- 
charest, elegant  in  person  and  attire,  who  went 
with  us  up  the  Danube,  and  who  spent  the  most 
of  her  time  in  the  close  cabin  below,  that  she  might 
indulge  in  her  favorite  habit.  One  morning  when 
we  were  passing  through  a  beautiful  district,  I  went 
down,  and  seeing  her  sitting  in  a  cloud  of  smoke 
said  to  her,  — 

"  The  air  is  delicious  this  morning,  Madame,  and 
the  views  on  shore  charming.  Will  you  not  come 
on  deck  a  little  while  ?  " 


THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY.  201 

"  Thank  you,"  she  replied,  in  languid  French, 
''  but  I  prefer  my  cigarette." 

One  of  these  Russians  perhaps  might  have 
rivaled  her, — an  elderly  woman  with  a  gentle  face 
and  white,  taper  fingers  that  seemed  quite  at  home 
in  the  nice  art  of  rolling  up  the  precious,  pulver- 
ized leaves,  —  for  when  she  was  not  smoking  or 
sleeping,  with  her  slips  of  paper  and  her  pretty  bag 
filled  with  fragrant  Latakia,  she  was  thus  preparing 
to  smoke. 

At  six  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  steamer  was 
under  way.  All  was  animation  on  board.  The 
officers  and  crew,  calling  and  answering  each  other, 
had  enough  to  do  to  keep  the  channel ;  the  cabin 
passengers,  having  their  own  provisions,  were  busy 
with  breakfast ;  while  those  on  deck,  accustomed 
to  sleep  upon  bench  and  stove,  or  in  summer  upon 
the  ground  in  the  open  air,  sprang  up,  elastic,  from 
the  hard  floor  and  addressed  themselves  to  their 
bread  and  tea.  We  soon  passed  the  island  and 
came  into  the  full  river,  but  it  was  still  so  much 
narrower  than  the  Volga  that  it  seemed  but  an 
ordinary  stream.  Rising  in  a  small  lake  in  the 
government  of  Tula,  the  Don,  once  the  eastern 
boundary  of  Europe,  winds  south  a  thousand  miles, 


202  THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY. 

and,  receiving  eighty  tributaries,  empties  by  several 
mouths  into  the  Sea  of  Azoff.  Full  of  sand  banks 
and  islands,  it  runs  usually  with  a  calm,  shallow 
current,  but  it  is  subject  to  violent  inundations, 
when  it  converts  the  low  shores  into  morasses  and 
allows  large  ships  to  ascend  hundreds  of  miles.  In 
its  valley  are  some  of  the  most  fertile  lands  of 
Russia,  and  forests  of  oak  and  pine  accompany  it 
through  much  of  its  course. 

We  had  not  gone  far  before  the  keel  scraped  the 
sand  and  we  were  aground.  Overboard  jumped 
the  crew,  and  standing  up  to  their  knees  in  water, 
aided  the  engine  with  pushing  and  prying  and 
screaming  till  the  boat  was  clear  again.  This 
scene  was  repeated  frequently  during  the  day,  and 
the  men  appeared  to  be  as  much  at  home  in  the 
river  as  on  deck.  At  ten  o'clock  we  stopped  at  a 
small  town  where  the  steward  and  many  of  the 
passengers  went  ashore  to  buy  bread,  sweet  and 
white.  Here  also  we  found  grapes,  enormous 
clusters  but  scarcely  ripe,  and  melons  which  all  on 
board  seemed  to  be  eating  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 
The  shores  were  low  and  bordex*ed  partly  with 
trees,  apparently  willows,  while  between  the  ver- 
dure and  the  water  was  often  a  line  of  snowy 
sand. 


THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY.  203 

This  is  the  land  of  the  Don  Cossacks,  who  fur- 
nish the  army  with  more  than  seventy  regiments 
and  batteries  of  cavalry  and  horse  artillery.  Most 
individual  of  Russians,  their  country  was  for  cen- 
turies the  battle-ground  of  Pole  and  Muscovite,  of 
Turk  and  Tartar,  and  they  would  have  been  driven 
out  or  exterminated  if  they  had  not  possessed  a 
genius  for  war.  The  Tartar  term  Cossack  — light- 
armed  warrior  —  refers  not  to  race  but  to  mode  of 
life.  It  is,  with  those  who  bear  it,  a  name  of 
honor,  and  any  one  of  whose  valor  they  are  as- 
sured may  be  received  as  one  of  the  tribe.  Thus 
Mazeppa  was  adopted  and  in  time  chosen  as  chief. 
Their  Headman  is  the  Crown  Prince,  but  all  in- 
ferior rulers  they  elect  from  their  own  people  with- 
out dependence  upon  the  Government.  Daring 
courage  with  them  constitutes  nobility.  All  are 
brothers  and  their  lands  are  in  common.  Darker 
than  the  north-Russians,  with  full  beards,  which 
even  the  authority  of  Peter  the  Great  could  not 
force  them  to  give  up,  the  impetuous  fire  of  their 
ancestors  still  burns  in  their  blood  and  clows  in 
their  eyes.  Exempt  from  taxation,  from  fifteon 
years  oid  to  sixty  they  are  liable  to  military  service 
as  cavalry  soldiers,  and  no  Arab  of  the   desert  is 


204  THE   COSSACK  COUNTRY. 

more  at  home  upon  his  steed  than  these  sons  of 
the  steppe  upon  theirs.  They  conquered  Siberia. 
They  lead  the  way  in  Central  Asia.  They  garri- 
son the  forts,  and  keep  the  ever-advancing  frontiers 
of  the  East  and  South.  Woe  to  the  foe,  Christian 
or  Mohammedan,  when  with  lances  in  rest,  and 
banners  bright  with  their  patron  saints,  shouting, 
they  dash  to  the  charge  ! 

Their  religion  is  that  of  Olga  and  Vladimir. 
They  reverence  the  usages  and  cling  to  the  super- 
stitions of  the  Ancient  Faith,  counting  reform  sacri- 
lege.    No  village  of  theirs  but  has  its  church  and 

©  © 

chime  ;  no  house  but  shrines  its  sacred  picture  ;  no 
soldier  but  goes  to  battle  with  the  cross  and  the 
image  of  his  guardian  saint  pressed  to  his  breast. 

Trained  to  war,  they  pay  little  attention  to  agri- 
culture. Those  near  the  river  draw  their  support 
largely  from  the  fisheries,  and  those  on  the  steppe 
from  their  flocks  and  herds,  while  whatever  arts 
and  manufactures  exist  among  them  are  in  the 
hands  of  strangers.  Their  villages  are  rudely  for- 
tified, and  in  regions  exposed  to  plunder  the  cattle 
are,  for  safety,  driven  nightly  within  the  inclosure. 
Each  house  has  its  garden  for  grapes  and  melons, 
and  perhaps  its  patch  of  corn. 


THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY.  205 

It  was  pleasant  to  breathe  the  air  of  this  wild 
land  which  had  known  neither  serf  nor  lord,  and 
to  whose  people  liberty  and  peril  are  one ;  for 
something  of  primitive  nature  lingers  still  in  every 
breast  and  creates  instant  sympathy  with  the  ex 
hilaration,  the  freedom,  the  simplicity  of  life  in  the 
saddle,  the  tent,  the  plain.  The  winds  blowing 
from  the  steppe  had  floated  their  banners  on  a  hun- 
dred fields.  The  horses  that  neighed  or  bounded 
away  from  the  river  brink  at  our  approach,  amid 
the  wastes  of  Asia  might  bear  their  masters  swift 
to  victory,  and  then  to  fort  or  mountain  pass,  safe 
from  the  vengeful  foe.  The  deep-mouthed  dogs, 
baying  from  the  hamlets,  would  defend  the  camp 
with  their  lives  should  Kalmuck  or  Kirghiz  ma- 
rauder dare  to  enter. 

The  boat  anchored  for  the  night  at  a  little  vil- 
lage whose  straw-thatched  roofs  were  just  visible 
from  the  deck. 

Dawn  ushered  in  the  last  day  of  summer,  and  on 
a  broader  but  still  shallow  river,  with  posts  driven 
here  and  there  to  mark  the  sand-bars,  we  held  our 
way  to  the  south.  Many  birds  were  about  tho 
shores  —  cranes,  herons,    ducks,  and  various  wild 


206  THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY. 

fowl,  hovering  over  the  water  or  solemnly  watch- 
ing for  fish  along  its  margin.  As  the  boat  ap- 
proached they  took  wing  and,  following  the  stream, 
alighted  long  reaches  in  advance  ;  and  thus,  alter- 
nately resting  and  flying,  some  of  them  accompa- 
nied us  half  the  morning. 

There  are  no  large  towns  near  this  part  of  the 
river,  and  the  villages  are  quite  unlike  those  of  the 
Volga.  Instead  of  square  cabins,  all  of  hewn  logs 
or  rough  boards,  the  houses  are  like  a  tent  in  shape 
and  their  steep  roofs  are  thatched  with  straw,  so 
that  it  is  often  difficult  to  distinguish  them  from  the 
large  hay-stacks  with  which  they  are  interspersed. 

All  day  the  rolling  plain  stretched  away  on  either 
hand  with  herds,  and  hamlets,  and  scattered  corn- 
fields, and  now  and  then  a  wind-mill  lifting  its 
arms  to  the  air.  Towards  night,  however,  there 
appeared  on  the  right  a  range  of  low,  sandy  hills, 
divided  by  ravines  and  dotted  with  thatched  cot- 
tages —  a  peculiar,  dreary  scene,  yet  pleasing  here 
from  its  novelty.  The  grass  was  greener  than  to 
the  north,  and  great  companies  of  cattle  and  horses 
were  feeding  on  the  lower  slopes.  This  was  a  sub- 
urb of  Constantinovka,  and  passing  a  bend  of  the 
river  we  came  to  the  town,  an  assemblage  of  the 
same  thatched  houses  with  a  few  better  structures. 


THE  COSSACK  COUNTRY.  207 

Here  we  exchanged  our  small,  flat-bottomed  boat 
for  one  larger  and  more  agreeable.  The  amusing 
scenes  we  had  witnessed  before  were  repeated  — 
people,  high  and  low,  hurrying  back  and  forth  with 
pillows  and  blankets  and  bags  of  sugar  and  tea  — 
only  that  now  the  crowd  was  greater  and  Oriental 
dislike  of  haste  had  to  yield  to  the  necessity  of  se- 
curing sofa  and  deck-room.  Plump  went  a  pillow 
into  the  water.  Down  the  gangway  rolled  the 
precious  lumps  that  would  have  sweetened  many  a 
glass  of  tea.  Blankets  trailed  along  the  planks  and 
were  trodden  under  foot  of  the  throng.  And  the 
bewildered  victims  seemed  to  take  it  all  as  part  of 
the  penalty  of  travelling  by  steam  I 


ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON. 


14 


ROSTOFF  AND   THE  LOWER  DON. 


O  placid  Don  !    I  see  thee  flow 
With  shallow,  snowy-sanded  stream, 

While  light  the  steppe-winds  o'er  thee  blow, 
And  cranes  and  gray-winged  herons  dream  — 

Safe  as  beside  some  dark  lagoon  — 

Along  thy  banks  in  breezeless  noon. 

The  Cossack  wanders  from  thy  shore, 

But  never  finds  a  wave  so  fair; 
Thy  summer  lapse,  thy  winter  roar, 

Still  greet  him  in  remotest  air ; 
And  death  is  sweet  if  he  may  lie, 
With  cross  above,  thy  waters  by. 

A  COMPANY  of  people  dark  of  skin  and  eyes 
and  hair  were  on  the  shore  as  the  boat  came 
to  anchor.  Observant,  yet  indifferent,  they  chatted 
a  moment  over  the  new  comer  and  then  strode 
away,  careless,  it  seemed,  whether  we  went  up  or 
down  the  river.  A  mounted  herdsman,  in  slouched 
hat  and  sheep-skin  jacket,  drove  his  horses  down  to 


212         ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON. 

the  stream  to  drink,  and  halted  a  few  feet  from  the 
landing.  Sitting  in  his  saddle,  he  looked  straight 
before  him,  and  when  the  last  colt  lifted  its  head, 
satisfied,  from  the  water,  he  turned  about  and  fol- 
lowed his  charge  away  without  having  deigned  to 
bestow  upon  us  a  single  glance. 

Several  women  came  on  board  here,  adding  to 
our  number  in  the  saloon.  Black-eyed,  stout,  and 
vivacious,  they  had  evidently  journeyed  from  the 
interior,  for  they  were  brown  with  dust,  and  the 
waiting-maid  was  at  once  summoned  to  assist  them 
at  their  toilets.  Hastily  laying  aside  their  wide- 
waisted  gowns  (with  the  exception  of  those  who  in 
towns  and  cities  follow  French  fashions,  the  Rus- 
sian women  seem  to  believe  in  the  old  Muscovite 
idea  that  it  is  immodest  for  a  woman  to  let  the 
form  of  her  waist  be  seen,  or  to  go  with  her  hair 
uncovered),  they  stood  in  turn  before  the  one  basin 
while  the  patient  girl  poured  the  water  for  their 
ablutions  —  not  at  once  into  the  bowl,  but  in  a 
small  stream  over  their  hands  as  they  washed ; 
running  water  being  here,  as  throughout  the  East, 
considered  necessary  to  cleanliness  and  purity.  All 
this  without  the  least  interruption  to  their  voluble 
Russ,  which  seems,  in  the  South,  a  softer  language 
than  one  hears  above  Kazan. 


ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON.         213 

Gradually  the  boat  grew  quiet.  Night  came  on. 
The  last  loiterer  left  the  bank,  and  the  only  sounds 
heard  from  shore  were  the  occasional  barking  of 
dogs  and  the  distant  lowing  of  cattle. 

The  next  morning  ushered  in  September,  but 
with  us  it  was  going  towards  summer,  for  every 
day  brought  milder  air.  The  river-shores  were 
still  low  and  the  distance  varied  by  sandy  ridges 
alive  with  water-fowl.  It  was  Sunday,  but  there 
was  nothing  on  board  the  steamer  to  distinguish  it 
from  the  rest  of  the  week. 

In  our  descent  we  passed,  on  the  right,  the 
mouth  of  the  small  river  Aksai.  Staroi  Tcher- 
kask,  the  former  Cossack  capital,  is  on  an  island 
formed  by  this  tributary  and  the  Don ;  but  it  was 
so  often  inundated  that  early  in  this  century  a  new 
site  was  chosen,  twelve  miles  up  the  Aksai,  and 
Novo  Tcherkask  became  the  capital  of  the  country. 
The  new  town,  away  from  the  Don  and  unloved  of 
the  people,  grows  slowly.  The  old  town,  refusing 
to  die,  has  still  some  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants, 
while  its  Greek  and  Armenian  merchants  carry  on 
a  brisk  trade  in  the  products  of  the  fisheries  and  the 
wine  from    the  neighboring   vineyards.     The   one 


214        ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON. 

with  broad  regular  streets,  with  barracks  and 
library  and  imposing  cathedral,  is  Imperial.  The 
other,  with  narrow  lanes,  and  thatched  houses,  and 
dirt,  and  dogs,  and  inundations,  is  Cossack. 

At  four  o'clock  we  reached  Rostoff,  at  the  head 
of  the  delta  of  the  Don,  and  twenty  miles  above 
the  Sea  of  AzofF;  the  most  important  town  on  the 
river,  and  the  centre  of  trade  for  all  this  part  of 
Russia.  A  hundred  years  ago  a  strong  fort  was 
built  here  as  a  store-house  for  munitions  of  war,  — 
Fort  St.  Dimitri,  —  and  about  it  the  town  has 
grown.  Government  has  favored  it  and  made  it 
also  a  depot  of  provisions  for  the  army,  the  for- 
tresses of  the  Caucasus,  and  the  eastern  shores  of 
the  Black  Sea ;  and  now,  wTith  the  adjacent  Ar- 
menian town  of  Nakitchevan,  it  has  some  fifty 
thousand  inhabitants.  Stretching  along  the  river, 
its  great  stacks  of  wool  and  skins,  of  timber  and 
bark  and  leather  heaped  close  to  the  shore,  with 
its  large  warehouses,  barracks,  and  churches,  and 
the  activity  everywhere  displayed,  show  its  life  and 
importance. 

The  Armenians,  driven  from  their  own  country 
by  wars  and  oppressions,  are  found  everywhere  in 
eastern    Europe,  and    are   especially   numerous   in 


A  COSSACK  BOY. 


ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LO  WER  DON.        215 

Russia,  with  whose  people  they  easily  fraternize  on 
account  of  the  similarity  of  their  Church  creeds. 
Their  capacity  for  trade  is  such,  that  a  Turkish 
proverb  says  :  "  A  Copt,  two  Greeks,  and  three 
Jews  are  required  to  deceive  an  Armenian."  They 
are  merchants,  bankers,  agents,  peddlers.  They 
manufacture  woolen  cloths  and  silks  and  jewelry, 
and  everywhere  by  their  quickness  and  sagacity 
they  become  prominent  in  commercial  and  financial 
affairs.  Through  the  Armenian  colonies  of  Mos- 
dok,  Kisliar,  and  Astrakhan,  those  of  Nakitchevan 
obtain  rice,  silk,  wine,  brandy,  and  all  the  other 
productions  of  the  Caucasus ;  and  by  frequenting 
the  fairs  of  the  provinces  bordering  upon  the  Don 
they  have  come,  in  large  measure,  to  control  the 
business  of  the  region.  Handsomest  of  races,  you 
rarely  see  one  among  them  that  is  not  comely, 
and  many  are  of  striking  beauty,  —  the  eyes  large 
and  mournful,  the  nose  prominent  but  finely  out- 
lined, the  mouth  small  and  sweet.  They  formed 
more  than  half  the  busy  crowd  at  the  Rostoff  land- 
ing, and  to  their  dark,  delicate  faces  the  coarser 
Cossack  physiognomy  was  an  admirable  foil.  If 
their  ancient  king  Ara  possessed  in  royal  degree 
the   charms  of  his    people,  with    an   unsusceptible 


216        ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON. 

heart,  it  is  no  marvel  he  won   the  passionate,  de- 
stroying love  of  Semiramis. 

The  boat,  which  would  not  go  below  Rostoff,  was 
in  a  few  minutes  deserted  of  its  passengers,  and  we 
found  it  then  so  quiet  and  pleasant  that  we  decided 
to  remain  on  board  till  morning.  At  sunset  we 
walked  up  the  long  slope  into  the  town.  There 
were  many  tall,  noticeable  public  buildings,  but 
most  of  the  dwelling-houses  were  small  structures, 
painted  yellow,  with  thatched  roofs  and  clumsy 
blinds  at  the  windows.  At  the  crest  of  the  ridge 
on  which  the  town  is  built  was  an  open  square,  from 
whence  we  had  a  broad  view  over  the  river  and  the 
plain  bathed  in  the  rosy  light.  Here  was  a  market 
and  a  church  with  beautiful  green,  star-spangled 
domes.  The  doors  were  open  and  we  went  in. 
Service  was  over,  but  a  few  late  worshippers  lin- 
gered at  the  shrines  whose  saints  lost  something 
of  their  grimness  in  that  mellow  gleam,  and  shone 
resplendent,  if  not  merciful,  from  their  settings  of 
gold  and  silver.  An  odor  of  incense  lingered  in 
the  air  which  the  fresh  breath  from  the  river  could 
not  dispel.  The  conventional  pictures  of  the  Last 
Judgment  and  the  Councils  were  on  the  walls,  but 
altogether,  with  its  side  windows  and  its  bright  col- 


ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON.        217 

ors,  it  was  the  most  cheerful  church  interior  we  had 
seen  in  Russia  —  most  of  the  churches,  fine  as  is 
the  exterior,  being  so  dark  and  gloomy  as  to  sad- 
den rather  than  elevate  the  soul.  In  the  square 
without,  companies  of  people,  chatting  and  laugh- 
ing, walked  to  and  fro ;  and  a  drunken  man,  the 
second  we  had  chanced  to  see  in  the  country,  reeled 
down  the  street  and  disappeared  in  a  cellar;  but 
there  was  no  noise  or  disorder.  Opposite  the 
church  was  a  fruit-booth  kept  by  an  Armenian,  his 
glowing  face  well  set  off  by  the  piles  of  lemons  and 
oranges  about  him.  Among  his  stores  were  great 
baskets  of  grapes  from  the  early  vintage,  the  native 
plums  of  the  Don,  and  the  berries  of  the  wild  rose. 
The  sun  had  gone  down  as  we  descended  the  hill, 
but,  shining  as  it  might  have  shone  on  the  Hud- 
son,  in  its  stead  was  the  crescent  moon,  and  under 
its  soft  rays  we  betook  ourselves  to  slumber. 

No  more  fair-haired  Russians.  The  multitude 
on  the  Taganrog  steamer  where  we  embarked  next 
morning  was  a  blending  of  the  Tartar,  Cossack, 
Greek,  and  Circassian  peoples,  inhabitants  of  these 
southern  shores.  The  change  was  pleasant  to  the 
eye  tired  of  the  pale,  blonde  races  that  look  faded 
and  expressionless  beside  these  children  of  the  sun. 


218         ROSTOFF  AND   THE  LOWER  DON. 

We  were  now  in  the  delta  of  the  Don,  and  as  the 
day  was  fine,  we  sat  on  the  upper  deck  that  we 
might  command  the  view.  While  I  write,  I  recall 
the  exhilaration  of  that  morning,  dropping  down  an 
unknown  river  to  an  unknown  sea.  The  broad 
stream  was  full  of  turns  and  windings,  and  its 
shores  enlivened  by  a  succession  of  small  towns  and 
villages  similar  to  those  we  had  seen  in  its  upper 
course.  Great  herds  of  horses  and  gray  cattle 
stood  along  the  banks  and  in  the  water,  and  some- 
times the  keepers  with  them  up  to  their  necks 
in  the  flood,  as  if  it  were  the  luxury  that  the 
Nile  is  to  the  Egyptians.  Fishermen  were  busy 
with  their  nets,  and  gulls  and  myriad  wild  fowl 
wheeled  and  poised  above,  intent  upon  the  waves. 
At  one  point  we  passed  a  small  boat  filled  with 
women,  towed  by  a  horse  which  a  boy  was  riding 
along  the  bank.  The  little  craft  swayed  with  the 
current  and  seemed  in  constant  danger  of  over- 
turn or  collision ;  but  its  inmates,  wrapped  in  rough 
jackets  and  with  handkerchiefs  tied  over  their 
heads,  appeared  as  much  at  ease  as  if  seated  on 
the  floors  of  their  own  cabins.  Sloops  and  sail- 
boats of  every  kind  became  numerous.  The  coun- 
try grew  flatter  till  at  length  it  was  a  green  plain 


ROSTOFF  AND  THE  LOWER  DON.         219 

scarcely  above  the  level  of  the  water.  The  river 
spread  itself  like  a  tranquil  lake,  and  soon,  rounding 
a  curve,  in  the  distant  horizon  wave  and  sky  were 
one,  and  lo !  we  had  passed  from  the  Don  to  the 
Azoff  Sea  1 


THE  AZOFF   AND   EUXINE   SEAS. 


THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS. 


Saw  you  ever  face  so  fearless, 

Saw  you  ever  face  so  fair, 
As  the  young  Circassian's  yonder, 

Gazing,  mournful,  into  air  ? 
How  his  glance,  his  kingly  carriage, 

Shame  the  Mongols  couched  below !  • 
Bliss  to  her  who'll  call  him  lover  ; 

Death  to  him  who'll  find  him  foe. 

Shade  of  Helen  !  there 's  a  Greek  girl 

Might  have  dazzled  Priam's  son  I 
With  such  eyes,  such  shining  tresses, 

Was  thy  Trojan  bold,  undone  I 
And  if  Paris  were  as  princely 

As  the  Persian  by  her  side, 
All  the  gods  might  give  thee  pity, 

Though  a  royal  Spartan's  bride. 

O  these  Border-Lands  of  Asia  1 
What  is  in  their  sun,  their  air, 

That  the  women  grow  so  beauteous, 
That  the  men  such  rjrandeur  wear  ? 


224  THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS. 

Not  the  goddess  loved  of  Odin, 
(Palest  brow  and  perfect  mouth,) 

Charms  like  this  Levantine  maiden, 
Blossom  of  the  glowing  South  ! 

"VX7IIEN  we  reached  Taganrog  the  dust  was 
"  *  whirling  through  its  streets,  and  as  there  is 
nothing  there  of  especial  interest  but  the  room  in 
which  Alexander  I.  breathed  his  last,  we  went 
directly  on  board  the  steamer  for  Kertch. 

Taganrog  was  founded  by  Peter  the  Great,  as  a 
port  for  the  South.  In  his  time  a  decrease  was 
noticed  in  the  waters  of  the  Sea  of  Azoff,  and  since, 
through  sand  brought  down  by  the  Don,  it  has 
grown,  in  this  vicinity,  so  shallow  that  ships  lie  off 
a  league  from  land,  and  divide  their  cargo  among 
small  boats  which  convey  it  ashore,  or  perhaps  are 
met  half-way  by  carts  driven  out  to  relieve  them 
of  their  load.  At  present  the  chief  business  of 
Taganrog  is  the  transfer  of  military  stores  to  the 
Caucasus,  but  year  by  year  its  trade  is  slipping 
away  to  Kertch  and  RostofF. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  began  our  voyage  to 
the  south.  The  day  was  fine,  the  sea  smooth,  and 
as  we  skirted  its  western  border  the  land  was  al- 
most   constantly    in    view  on    our  right,  with  the 


THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS.         225 

churches,  as  along  the  rivers,  the  most  conspicuous 
objects.  This  sea  has  nowhere  a  depth  of  more 
than  fifty  feet,  while  in  many  parts  it  is  much  less. 
When  a  strong  wind  blows  from  shore,  its  adjacent 
bed  is  sometimes  laid  bare,  and  ships  are  at  once 
aground,  but  as  its  bottom  is  a  soft  mud  they  are 
rarely  injured.  It  abounds  in  fish,  which  are 
among  the  principal  exports  of  its  towns,  —  hence 
its  Tartar  name,  Balik  Denghis, —  Fish  Sea. 

All  day  the  sun  shone  warm,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  Russia  the  thick  clothing,  so  necessary 
farther  north,  began  to  be  uncomfortable.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  we  came  to  Marienpol,  a  town  with 
an  extensive  trade.  The  Greek  blood  of  its  early 
colonists  showed  in  the  features  and  the  picturesque 
attire  of  the  boatmen  busy  with  transferring  freight 
to  the  hold  of  our  steamer.  I  remember  especially 
one  man  as  he  leaned  over  the  boat,  —  his  feet 
bare,  his  wide  trousers  rolled  up  to  the  knee  and 
confined  at  the  waist  by  a  girdle,  his  scarlet  shirt 
open  at  the  throat,  and  his  dark  eyes  and  clustering 
hair  made  more  remarkable  by  a  straw  hat,  the 
brim  loosely  braided,  and  the  unsplit  strands  gath- 
ered into  a  point  to  form  the  crown,  and  finished 
with  a  gay  silken  tassel.    Here,  among  other  things, 

15 


226  THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS. 

we  took  on  board  various  jars  filled  with  butter,  for 
the  use  of  the  Emperor's  household  at  Yalta.  I 
noticed  them  because  each  cover  was  fastened  with 
a  seal.  Everything  is  sealed  in  Russia,  even  the 
padlocks  of  the  boxes  for  the  poor  in  the  churches 
the  people,  it  is  said,  thinking  it  a  small  sin  to  pick 
a  lock,  but  having  a  regard  for  seals. 

Towards  evening  the  sea  became  literally  "a  sea 
of  glass,"  with  neither  ripple  nor  foam,  but  only  a 
gentle  sway  and  swell.  Many  ships  with  white, 
listless  sails,  stood  here  and  there  motionless  on  the 
flood.  The  sky  was  perfectly  clear,  and  after  the 
sun  went  down  it  was  a  great  vault  of  changing 
blue  and  crimson,  faint  and  warm,  with  every  tint 
reflected  in  the  sea,  so  that  one  could  scarcely  tell 
where  wave  ended  and  atmosphere  began. 

The  next  morning  we  were  at  Kertch,  on  the 
straits  of  Yeni  Kale",  the  quarantine  station  and  the 
most  important  town  of  the  Sea  of  Azoff.  Though 
still  a  busy  place,  with  exports  of  corn  and  wool, 
of  salt  from  the  adjacent  lakes,  and  of  fish  from  its 
own  waters,  it  has  never  recovered  from  its  bom- 
bardment during  the  Crimean  war.  Fortunately 
its  valuable  collection  of  antiquities  had  been  pre- 
viously removed  to  St.  Petersburg,  so  that  only  the 


THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS.  227 

museum  building  was  left  to  be  destroyed  by  the 
cannonade.  In  spite  of  its  modern  bouses,  and  its 
fifteen  thousand  inhabitants,  it  has  a  lonely  appear- 
ance, and  the  troops  of  dogs  that  infest  its  streets 
give  it  the  semblance  of  an  Oriental  town.  In  the 
bare  hill  beyond  it,  site  of  the  ancient  Greek  city, 
excavations  are  constantly  carried  on,  and  many 
beautiful  and  interesting  relics  of  that  civilization 
which  once  flourished  on  these  Scythian  shores  are 
brought  again  to  light,  —  memorials  of  the  time 
when  Anacharsis  the  Younger  walked  through  its 
orchards  and  gardens,  and  thought  it  the  finest  city 
of  the  world.  In  its  vicinity  was  the  great  tumu- 
lus known  to  the  Tartars  as  the  "  Hillock  of  the 
Brave,"  which,  opened  forty  years  ago,  disclosed  a 
chamber  of  hewn  stone,  wherein  were  found  the 
remains  of  a  Scythian  chief  with  his  wife,  his  at- 
tendants, and  his  favorite  steed.  His  golden  crown, 
his  ornaments  and  robes  and  weapons,  with  the 
offerings  made  at  his  tomb,  were  found,  untouched, 
as  they  had  lain  since  before  our  era ;  and  now, 
with  similar  objects  obtained  in  this  region,  they 
adorn  the  rooms  of  the  Hermitage  at  St.  Peters- 
burg. What  a  wonderful  realm  is  Russia,  since, 
without  quitting  the  firm  land,  she  can  enrich  her 


228  THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS. 

museums  with  the  mammoths  of  the  Polar  rivers, 
and  the  Greek  art  of  Southern  seas ! 

Now  we  went  on  board  a  spacious  boat  of  the 
Black  Sea  Line,  the  Gfrand  Duchess  Olga.  Never 
was  a  more  varied  company  assembled  than  that 
gathered  in  its  elegant  saloons  and  on  its  broad 
decks; — Russians  from  the  interior  going  to  the 
summer  court  and  watering-place  of  Yalta,  people 
following  French  fashions  and  speaking  French  or 
German  as  readily  as  Russ  ;  Greek  women  (one 
of  them  lovely  as  the  fairest  antique  statue)  with 
level  eyebrows  and  abundant  hair  half  concealed 
by  the  scarlet  cap  with  its  long,  drooping  tassel, 
women,  all  of  whom  needed  only  the  illumination 
of  the  soul  to  become  beautiful,  and  who  looked  up 
with  a  kind  of  childish  helplessness  to  their  hus- 
bands or  fathers  wrapped  in  loose  garments  bor- 
dered with  fur ;  natives  of  the  Caucasus  in  their 
peculiar  costumes,  with  features  so  regular  that  any 
one  of  the  number  might  have  sat  for  the  typical 
Caucasian  of  an  illustrated  work  on  ethnology, 
most  distinguished  among  them  a  Georgian  Prince 

o  o  o 

in  the  service  of  the  Czar,  an  Apollo  for  face  and 
form,  with  a  long  tunic  of  fine  yellow  cloth,  a  cap 
of  gray  lamb-skin,  and  belt  and  cartridge  boxes  in- 


A  YOUNG  CIRCASSIAN. 


THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXJNE  SEAS.         229 

laid  with  silver  ;  Armenian  traders  sitting  apart^ 
handsome  as  the  Caucasians,  but  with  sharp,  sad 
lines  in  their  faces  ;  Jews  in  their  dark  robes ;  Tar- 
tars, slow-moving  and  indifferent ;  nurses  wearing 
turbans  shaped  of  a  bright  handkerchief  and  car- 
rying infants  swathed,  after  the  ancient  custom, 
with  bands  of  linen  ;  part  of  a  regiment  of  soldiers 
ordered  to  Yalta,  and  a  nondescript  crowd  of  all 
the  neighboring  races,  Asiatic  and  European.  One 
of  the  Russians  was  a  lady  from  the  province  of 
Kharkov  who  spoke  English  and  seemed  much 
pleased  to  meet  Americans.  "  I  am  going  to 
Odessa,"  said  she.  "  I  always  go,  once  a  year,  to 
get  the  modes,  for  in  the  country  where  I  live  we 
have  little  of  fashion.  How  much  I  should  like 
to  see  America !  I  once  made  a  journey  to  Paris 
and  London,  and  sometime,  although  it  is  so  far,  I 
hope  to  go  to  New  York.  America  is  the  land 
of  Lincoln.  Ah,  how  terrible  was  the  news  of 
his  death  !  For  three  days  I  did  nothing  but  walk 
about  my  house  and  say,  Lincoln  is  dead  !  Lincoln 
is  dead !  " 

A  fresh  wind  blew  through  the   straits  of  Yeni 
Kale*,  and  the  tranquil  shallows  of  the  Sea  of  Azoff 


230  THE  AZOFF  AND  EUXINE  SEAS. 

gave  place  to  deeper  water,  green  and  covered  with 
spray.  As  we  swept  into  the  Euxine,  lo  !  at  our 
left  the  mountains  of  Caucasus  dark  on  the  horizon, 
but  fading  as  we  held  our  course  to  the  southwest. 
All  day  the  light  breeze  and  cloudless  sun  of  morn- 
ing attended  us,  and  the  shore  was  just  visible  on 
our  right.  At  sunset  we  reached  Kaffa  and  an- 
chored in  its  beautiful  bay,  thinking  of  the  days 
when  it  was  Theodosia,  and  Athenian  barks 
thronged  its  port  for  corn  and  honey  and  slaves. 
Kaffa  has  been  Russian  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years,  but  in  that  time  most  of  its  Tartar  inhabi- 
tants have  emigrated  to  Turkey ;  its  mosque,  copied 
from  St.  Sophia,  and  the  finest  in  the  Crimea,  has 
fallen  to  decay ;  and  at  present  it  is  inferior  to 
Kertch  in  trade  and  population.  Yet  it  looks  well 
as  seen  from  the  water,  with  its  tall  buildings,  its 
picturesque  ruined  forts,  and  its  line  of  wind-mills, 
grotesque  against  the  sky. 

Many  bales  of  wool  were  taken  on  board  here 
for  England  ;  and  then,  in  the  cool  twilight,  we 
sought  the  open  sea  and  the  Bay  of  Yalta. 


TALTA  AND  THE  CRIMEAN  TARTARS. 


YALTA  AND  THE  CRIMEAN  TARTARS. 


And  still  the  Tartar  loves  the  shores 
The  Euxine  washes,  and  deplores 
The  glories  of  his  race,  gone  by  I 
And  often  when  the  east  winds  sigh  — 
The  winds  that  warm  from  Asia  blow  — 
He  dreams  'tis  the  murmur  of  hosts  that  go 
Forth  with  Genghis  and  Timour  strong; 
And  his  dark  eyes  flash,  and  he  hears  the  song 
Of  the  victors  sung  where  the  tent  lines  glisten, 
While,  couched  on  carpets  Bokhara  wove 
For  the  chiefs  that  over  their  pastures  rove, 
The  Khan  and  his  jeweled  ladies  listen. 

But  the  wind  goes  by,  and  a  roll  of  drums 
From  the  fort  of  the  conquering  Russian  comes ; 
And  their  ships  sail  over  the  Euxine's  foam 
And  their  bells  ring  clear  from  tower  and  dome : 
"  It  was  written  in  Fate's  decree ;  "  he  cries, 
"  A  llah  requite  us  in  Paradise  !  " 

A     ROSY  sunrise  flushed  the  sea  as  we  anchored 

in  the  Bay   of  Yalta.     Precipitous    wooded 

mountains  circle  it  round,  and  the  town,  beginning 


234     YALTA  AND  THE   CRIMEAN  TARTARS. 

at  the  water's  edge,  climbs  a  little  way  up  the 
slope.  It  would  be  a  lovely  spot  anywhere  upon 
earth,  but  after  the  steppe  it  is  Paradise.  No 
wonder  the  Imperial  family  take  the  long  journey 
from  the  cold  marshes  of  St.  Petersburg  to  look 
upon  such  scenes  and  breathe  such  air.  Small 
boats  conveyed  the  passengers  ashore,  and  as  we 
stepped  on  to  the  wharf  we  saw  the  soldiers,  already 
disembarked,  sitting  and  standing  in  groups  on  the 
beach,  cleaning  their  guns  and  adjusting  their  uni- 
forms preparatory  to  entering  the  royal  grounds. 

As  the  summer  residence  of  the  Czar,  a  favorite 
bathing-place,  and  the  centre  of  traffic  in  Crimean 
wine,  Yalta  is  important.  During  the  warm  season 
it  is  thronged  with  visitors,  and  it  was  with  some 
trouble  that  we  obtained  rooms  at  the  Hcitel  de 
Yalta — a  rambling  old  house  built  round  an  inte- 
rior court,  with  bare  floors  and  ancient  furniture, 
yet  delightful  to  us  who,  since  leaving  Kazan,  had 
spent  but  a  single  night  away  from  a  boat,  and  that 
in  the  station-house  at  Tzaritsin.  One  must  de- 
scend the  Volga  and  the  Don  to  appreciate  the 
luxury  of  an  ample  apartment  and  a  bed  with  two 
sheets  and  a  white  pillow  cover. 

After  breakfast   we   went  in  an   open    carriage, 


YALTA  AND   THE   CRIMEAN  TARTARS.    235 

with  three  horses  abreast  and  a  Tartar  driver, 
across  the  heights  above  the  town  to  the  Tartar 
village  of  Usof  upon  a  hill-side  fronting  the  sea.  O 
the  pleasure  of  that  ride !  The  sky  blue  as  ours, 
with  great  fleecy  clouds  drifting  over  it ;  the 
balmy  air  lightly  stirred  by  the  breeze  blowing  to 
shore  ;  below  us  the  Euxine  flashing  in  the  sun, 
and  about  us  the  rich  vegetation  of  this  favored 
clime — pines,  larches,  junipers,  cypresses,  oaks, 
and  walnuts ;  vineyards  on  the  southern  exposures, 
and  in  the  valleys  the  mulberry,  the  pomegranate, 
the  olive,  the  laurel,  the  fig,  and  sometimes  the 
orange ;  fields  of  tobacco  ;  blackberry  bushes  laden 
with  fruit,  and  the  lavish  clematis  overrunning  the 
walls. 

With  a  fine  instinct  for  natural  beauty  the  Tar- 
tars have  everywhere  chosen  the  loveliest  sites  for 
their  villages.  This  of  Usof  clusters  in  the  hollow 
and  clings  to  the  hill-side  overlooking  the  sea,  while 
just  beyond  it  precipitous  cliffs  rise  from  the  water 
as  if  to  guard  the  retreat,  and  the  whole  air  is  filled 
with  the  music  of  dashing  wave  and  spray.  It 
might  have  been  transported  from  the  slopes  of 
Lebanon,  so  like  was  it  to  a  Syrian  town  with  its 
small,  flat-roofed  houses  rising  terrace  above  ter- 


236     YALTA  AND   THE   CRIMEAN  TARTARS. 

race,  and  its  dogs  that  started  up  to  bark  at  the 
strangers. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  Tartars  are  a  comely 
race;  stout  but  symmetrical  in  form,  the  face 
broad,  the  eyes  black  or  bluish-gray  with  heavy 
lashes,  and  the  nose  often  high  and  aquiline.  The 
dress  of  the  men  was  half  way  between  that  of  an 
Arab  and  a  Russian.  The  women,  shy  but  un- 
veiled, wore  wide  trousers  and  loose  upper  gar- 
ments ;  some  were  barefoot,  others  had  boots  of 
yellow  leather,  and  all  let  their  hair  hang  to  the 
waist  in  fine  braids.  Rarely  have  I  seen  prettier 
children  —  plump,  grave  little  creatures  in  queer 
caps  and  frocks,  peeping  timidly  round  the  corners 
of  the  houses  as  we  approached,  and  then  suddenly 
darting  within.  Two  groups  were  collected  in  an 
open  balcony  with  an  old  man  for  a  teacher,  and 
from  small  books  before  them  they  chanted  to- 
gether with  only  less  noise  than  those  Vambe*ry 
heard  in  the  bazaar  of  Bokhara. 

In  an  inclosure  near  one  of  the  houses  several 
men  and  women  were  at  work  making  cider  ;  the 
women  first  pounding  the  apples  in  a  large  wood- 
en trough  after  which  they  were  put  into  a  rude 
press,   while  the  juice  was   "  boiling  down  "  in   a 


Jy-3 


TARTAR  ROYS 


YALTA  AND  THE  CRIMEAN  TARTARS.    237 

large,  shallow  copper  pan  over  a  fire  kindled  on 
the  ground.  The  picturesquely  attired  men  and 
women  busy  with  the  fruit ;  the  bright-eyed  chil- 
dren playing  about ;  the  grain,  the  apricots,  the 
nuts,  the  tobacco,  the  onions  and  red  peppers  dry- 
ing in  and  around  every  house,  made  a  scene  of 
rustic  plenty  and  simplicity,  charming  to  behold. 
One  of  the  young  women  offered  us  cider  in  a 
wooden  bowl ;  another  brought  a  basket  of  hazel- 
nuts ;  and  we  were  free  to  pick  the  ripe,  delicious 
berries  of  the  great  mulberry  trees  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill.  It  was  a  mode  of  existence  that  en- 
chanted me,  tired  of  the  artificial,  complicated  life 
of  the  West,  and  had  I  followed  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  I  should  have  sworn  allegiance  to  the 
Prophet  and  taken  up  my  abode  in  Usof  by  the 
sea ! 

Tartars  make  up  the  larger  part  of  the  popula- 
tion of  the  Crimea.  The  power  of  their  haughty 
Khans  decreased  until,  nearly  a  hundred  years  ago, 
Sahim,  the  last  of  the  line,  gave  up  his  domains  to 
the  Russians,  and  for  this  was  enticed  to  Constanti- 
nople by  the  indignant  Turks,  whose  vassal  he  had 
been,  and  put  to  death.  It  was  one  of  his  luxuri- 
ous predecessors  who,  when  poisoned  by  a  Greek  at 


238     YALTA  AND  THE   CRIMEAN  TARTARS. 

Bender,  sent  for  his  musicians  that  he  might  fall 
asleep  pleasantly.  And  now  their  ancient  palace, 
"  Seraglio  of  Gardens,"  stands  like  the  Alhambra,  a 
monument  of  splendor  passed  away.  Many  of  their 
mosques  are  in  ruins,  while  those  families  among 
them  most  rigidly  attached  to  their  Faith  and  their 
traditions  have  sought  on  Turkish  soil  freedom  from 
Christian  rule.  Yet  those  who  remain  seem  con- 
tent and  light-hearted ;  their  bearing  is  easy  and 
independent ;  and  with  the  belief  that  all  events 
are  decreed,  they  resign  themselves  to  their  fate. 
Doubtless  in  an  extreme  of  trial  and  mortification 
they  are  consoled  by  that  saying  of  Mohammed's 
so  grateful  to  their  fierce  kindred,  the  Turkomans : 
"  This  world  is  a  Prison  for  Believers  and  a  Para- 
dise for  Unbelievers."  As  a  race  they  take  life 
sunnily,  and  with  their  primitive  habits,  and  their 
trust  in  destiny,  are  disposed  to  idleness  ;  yet  they 
readily  endure  fatigue  and  are  courageous  and  true- 
hearted.  They  have  some  manufactures  of  felts 
and  camel's  hair  cloth,  but  most  of  them  are  agri- 
culturists or  shepherds.  Their  land  is  irrigated  and 
often  well  tilled ;  and  on  the  steppes  they  have  large 
herds  of  sheep  and  cattle,  and  by  their  nomadic  in- 
stinct can  find  their  way  even  when  the  trackless 


YALTA  AND  THE  CRIMEAN  TARTARS.    239 

plains  are  white  with  snow.  Their  favorite  food 
is  mutton  roasted  on  skewers,  with  thin  cakes  of 
bread,  after  the  fashion  of  the  East.  They  delight 
in  fruits,  and  are  enormous  consumers  of  tobacco. 
Unavoidably  they  will  share  the  progress  of  the 
Empire,  and  they  will  perhaps  play  an  important 
part  in  its  future. 

In  the  warm  evening  twilight  we  walked  about 
Yalta.  The  whole  population,  on  foot  or  in  car- 
riages, thronged  the  streets,  from  the  Emperor, 
attired  as  a  private  gentleman,  to  the  Tartars  in 
black  lamb -skin  caps  ornamented  with  colored 
beads.  The  music  of  a  military  band  came  from 
the  barracks,  and  laughter  and  the  hum  of  voices 
were  heard  on  every  side.  Here  and  there  were 
booths  for  the  sale  of  fruit,  especially  the  grapes  of 
the  country,  large  white  and  purple  pyramids,  deli- 
cious for  eating,  but  which  have  not  yet  produced 
superior  wines.  In  the  shops  were  piles  of  gray- 
blue  lamb-skins  from  the  plains  near  Kertch  —  a 
color  peculiar  to  the  Crimea,  and  said,  though  I 
know  not  how  truly,  to  be  owing  to  a  plant  upon 
which  the  sheep  feed. 

The  varied   crowd,  the   soft  air,  the  mountains, 


240     YALTA  AND  TEE   CRIMEAN  TARTARS. 

and  the  sea  won  us  to  prolong  our  stroll  till  the 
pines  were  dim  against  the  horizon  and  day  had 
given  place  to  stars.  Then  we  turned  back  to  the 
hotel  in  company  with  a  group  of  Tartars  saunter- 
ng  homewards,  —  for,  like  all  Mohammedans,  they 
keep  early  hours,  —  and  the  last  person  we  saw  on 
the  promenade  was  the  Georgian  prince,  looking 
strikingly  handsome  in  an  embroidered  white  tunic 
and  a  cap  of  snowy  lamb-skin,  which  he  raised  in 
graceful  recognition  as  we  passed  him  by. 


THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA. 


THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA. 


Cross  but  this  rocky  height,  and  lo! 

A  valley  rare  as  Rasselas 

Found  in  the  Abyssinian  pass, 
With  warmth  and  beauty  all  aglow  I 
Where  for  Tartar  mosque  and  royal  villa 
Is  many  a  shining  porphyry  pillar, 
With  marbles  for  arch  and  floor  and  stair 
Veined  with  vermilion  or  amber  fair; 
And  fountains  fed  by  the  rills  that  fall 
Cool  and  clear  from  the  mountain  wall. 
Where  the  olive  and  orange  and  nectarine 
Ripen  the  sea-side  gardens  in, 
And  the  winds  are  sweet  as  the  breeze  that  sighs 
Over  the  meadows  of  Paradise  !  — 
Yea,  and  the  Blessed  there  might  crave 
Alupka,  pride  of  the  cliff  and  wave  1 

TTTHEN  the  next  day's  shadows  began  to  slope 

eastward  we  left  Yalta  for  the  drive  across 

the   country  to   Sevastopol.     The  September  sky 

was  without  a  cloud,  and  the  warmth  of  the  sun 


244     THE   CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA. 

was  lessened  by  a  breeze  from  the  water,  produ- 
cing that  perfect  temperature  in  which  one  is  nei- 
ther conscious  of  heat  nor  cold. 

Our  road  lay  along  the  slope  of  the  hills  between 
the  heights  and  the  sea.  Yalta,  with  its  pictu- 
resque church,  its  back -ground  of  pines,  and  its 
circular  bay,  soon  disappeared.  Passing  on  by 
pleasant  homes  we  reached,  at  a  little  distance,  the 
villa  of  the  Empress  —  Livadia.  It  is  a  handsome 
structure  —  warm  brown  in  color,  with  beautiful 
grounds  descending  to  the  shore  —  a  cheerful,  un- 
pretending place,  where,  if  anywhere,  it  would 
seem  care  might  be  forgotten.  On  the  green 
sward  just  beyond  the  gate,  companies  of  soldiers 
were  dining  in  the  open  air,  and  officers  in  Circas- 
sian costume  went  to  and  fro.  Beyond,  and  still 
between  the  road  and  the  sea,  was  the  palace  of 
the  Grand  Duke  Michael,  and,  still  further,  that  of 
the  Grand  Duchess  Helen ;  but  long  reaches  of 
park-like  grounds  separate  them  and  leave  each 
alone  in  loveliness  and  dignity. 

It  is  not  solely  the  royal  family  who  come  hither 
for  summer  delight.  All  the  coast  is  dotted  with 
the  villas  of  the  noble  and  the  wealthy,  while  those 
\yho  cannot  keep  a  permanent  residence  spend  a  few 


THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA.     245 

weeks  here  during  the  bathing  season,  and  go  back, 
refreshed,  to  the  monotony  of  the  interior. 

The  Crimean  range  of  mountains  begins  near 
Kertch,  and  following  mainly  the  line  of  the  coast, 
ends  in  a  bold  promontory  near  Sevastopol.  Its 
highest  peak,  the  "  Tent  Mountain "  of  the  Tar- 
tars, rises  more  than  five  thousand  feet  above  the 
Euxine  level,  and  is  a  mark  for  steppe  and  sea. 
To  the  north  is  a  boundless  plain  with  brackish 
lakes  but  neither  springs  nor  rivers  —  a  plain 
where  chill  winds  blow  and  hot  suns  beat  without 
barrier  or  shade  to  soften  their  power ;  and  where 
in  a  long  day's  ride  you  would  see  only  wanderers 
with  their  herds,  and  flocks  of  solemn  storks  and 
eager  gulls  hovering  over  the  lagoons. 

Cross  the  range  to  the  south,  and  you  are  in  the 
paradise  of  Russia.  The  air  is  bland.  The  trees 
and  fruits  have  almost  a  tropical  richness  and  va- 
riety. Noble  forests,  vineyards,  and  gardens  every- 
where meet  the  eye,  while  streams  of  pure  water 
flow  through  the  ravines,  irrigating  the  soil  and 
supplying  the  fountains,  and  beneath  all  spreads 
the  Euxine,  smooth  or  ruffled,  as  the  wind  may 
blow.  The  blue  sky,  the  transparent  air,  the  val- 
leys steeped  in  light  and  warmth,  the  mountains 


246      THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA. 

clear-cut  against  the  horizon,  the  dark-eyed  Mos« 
lem  villagers,  and  the  tideless  sea  washing  the 
shores,  constantly  recalled  Syria  and  the  landscapes 
of  Lebanon. 

But  although  the  value  of  land  here  has  greatly 
increased  since  the  introduction  of  the  vine,  its  fer- 
tility and  beauty  are  still  only  half  developed.  The 
mountains,  too,  have  unknown  riches  of  marbles  — 
some  red  and  white,  some  of  a  sienna  tint,  some 
dark  with  lustrous  veins  —  with  fissures  which 
earthquakes  have  made,  inviting  builders  to  the 
quarry.  Ah,  the  stately  dwellings  they  yet  shall 
fashion,  and  the  gardens  that  shall  bloom  about 
them ! 

Now  our  road  plunged  into  the  shadow  of  oaks 
which  might  have  framed  a  man-of-war,  and  of 
walnuts  broad-boughed  and  fragrant  as  those  that 
line  the  Barada  above  Damascus.  Then  it  emerged 
upon  an  open  slope  with  the  mountains  towering 
above  us,  and,  below,  the  sea,  blue  that  day  as  the 
Mediterranean,  and  sparkling  in  the  sun.  And 
everywhere,  in  quiet  dells  and  sheltered  nooks,  and 
by  the  side  of  a  narrow  stream  that  wound  its  way 
down  the  steep,  were  the  rustic  houses  and  vil- 
lages of  the  Tartars.     One  would  suppose  that  on 


THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA.     247 

this  high-road  across  the  Crimea  they  would  lose 
their  shyness  ;  but  the  pretty  children  fled  at  our 
approach,  and  a  woman  whom  we  overtook,  a 
woman  who  from  her  attire  —  full  trousers,  yellow 
slippers,  hair  in  tiny  braids,  and  a  head-dress  orna- 
mented with  coins — might  have  walked  out  of 
Nablus  or  Ramleh,  drew  quickly  across  her  face 
the  bright-figured  mantle  that  covered  her  shoul- 
ders, and  turned  away  till  we  passed  by. 

We  had  been  for  some  miles  on  the  domain  of 
Prince  Woronzoff  —  the  distinguished  Russian  no- 
ble who  has  done  so  much  to  benefit  this  region 
and  make  known  its  attractions  —  and  soon  we 
came  to  Alupka,  his  sea-side  residence,  and  halted 
at  its  comfortable  inn. 

Palace  is  a  word  of  indefinite  signification. 
There  are  royal  abodes  in  Europe,  popularly  called 
ealaces,  which  are  far  less  grand  and  luxurious 
man  many  American  homes ;  but  this  of  Alupka 
deserves  the  name  in  its  fullest  meaning.  The 
mountains  here  come  almost  within  a  stone's  throw 
of  the  shore.  The  palace  stands  upon  a  bank  that 
slopes  to  the  water,  and  behind  it  Ai'  Petri  climbs 
a   thousand    feet,    broken    into    bare,    picturesque 


248     THE   CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA. 

points  which  resemble,  in  miniature,  the  Needles 
of  the  Alps.  Square  in  form  and  Oriental  in  style, 
it  is  built  of  a  greenish  porphyry  taken  from  the 
adjacent  cliff,  and  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
landscape,  as  are  all  buildings  whose  materials  are 
from  the  quarries  peculiar  to  the  region  about 
them.  The  Finland  granite  of  St.  Isaac's  is  as  fine 
in  the  dull  atmosphere  of  the  North  as  the  shining 
marble  of  the  Parthenon  beneath  the  brilliant  sky 
of  Greece ;  and,  under  the  Crimean  heaven,  this 
pile  of  olive-tinted  stone,  warm  as  the  sunbeams 
and  rich  as  the  shadows,  rises,  a  natural  feature 
of  the  scene. 

Between  high,  winding  walls  of  the  same  stone 
overgrown  with  vines,  and  not  unlike  the  entrance 
to  Warwick  Castle,  you  approach  the  house.  Be- 
fore you  it  stands,  beautiful  in  symmetry  of  design, 
and  in  the  delicate  carving  of  its  mouldings  and 
ornaments.  The  encircling  grounds  are  set  with 
walnut  and  apricot  and  orange  and  fig  and  pome- 
granate trees:  varied  with  thickets  of  odorous  ever- 
greens,  and  adorned  with  blossoming  vines  and 
shrubs,  and  with  beds  of  gorgeous  flowers  ;  while 
through  them  runs  a  crystal  stream  which  descends 
from  the  hills.     Beyond,  and  a  little   way  up  the 


THE   CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA.     249 

slope,  —  toleration  pleasant  to  behold  !  —  out  of  the 
mass  of  foliage  gleams  a  Tartar  mosque,  with  swell- 
ing dome  and  minaret,  where,  every  day,  turning 
east  and  west  and  north  and  south,  the  muezzin 
calls  the  Faithful  to  prayer ;  and  above  soar  the 
cliffs,  —  now  sharp  against  the  sky,  now  wreathed 
with  clouds,  —  and  seeming  lofty  and  inaccessible 
enough  to  be  the  haunt  of  eagles  and  the  inspira- 
tion of  dreams. 

Within  all  was  as  rare  and  striking  as  without,  — 
a  mansion  fit  for  a  Russian  prince  to  rear  on  Mos- 
lem soil.  A  Tartar  who  seemed,  in  the  absence  of 
the  family,  to  have  a  certain  charge,  showed  us 
over  it  with  entire  politeness  and  propriety.  The 
ceilings  were  of  oak,  and  the  mantles  and  the  foun- 
tains in  the  spacious  dining-room,  —  fountains  fed 
by  the  mountain  stream,  —  of  the  most  elegant  na- 
tive marbles ;  while  the  furniture  and  tapestries 
were  almost  wholly  Turkish  or  Persian  in  pattern 
and  arrangement. 

In  the  library,  a  noble  room  at  one  end  of  the 
main  building,  besides  the  treasures  of  Continental 
learning,  there  were  many  English  books  and  peri- 
odicals lying  within  easy  reach,  with  leaves  freshly 
cut  as  if  they  had  been  read  and  enjoyed.     Among 


250     THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA. 

the  artistic  things  scattered  about,  I  particularly  re- 
member one  of  those  exquisite  paper-weights  from 
Ekaterineburg,  —  a  bunch  of  cherries  of  reddest 
cornelian,  with  leaves  of  a  green  Siberian  stone, 
the  branch  dropped  upon  a  slab  of  dark-hued,  pol- 
ished jasper. 

But  the  splendor  of  the  house  is  on  the  side 
fronting  the  sea.  The  great  windows  open  upon 
it,  and  to  the  shore  you  go  down  by  stately  stairs, 
broken  into  three  flights,  with  erect,  sitting,  and  re- 
clining lions,  —  the  last  copied  from  Canova's  in  St. 
Peter's,  —  at  either  side  of  the  three  broad  spaces 
of  the  descent.  And  before  you  spread  its  waves, 
blue  and  far  to  the  horizon,  with  white  sails  here 
and  there,  and  a  fresh  breeze  blowing  landward 
that  may  have  cooled  itself  on  the  precipitous  sides 
of  the  Balkan  or  among  the  snow-covered  peaks 
of  the  Caucasus. 

As  we  stood  upon  the  terrace  and  looked  above 
and  below,  I  called  to  mind  the  delightful  resi- 
dences we  had  seen  in  the  Old  World,  —  Eton 
Hall,  with  its  forest  avenues,  and  the  Dee  winding 
through  its  meadows ;  Chatsworth  in  its  beaute- 
dus  valley;  Inverary,  with  its  beeches  and  its  high- 
land setting  of  loch  and   mountain  ;    the  Villa  of 


THE  CRIMEAN  COAST  AND  ALUPKA.     251 

Prince  Oscar  near  Christiania,  with  its  wide  out- 
look over  green  fields  and  clear  fiords  and  reaches 
of  sombre  pines ;  castles  by  the  Rhine  and  the 
Rhone,  and  palaces  beneath  Italian  skies  and  in 
Eastern  lands,  —  and  I  thought  if  one  were  to  say 
to  me,  "  Choose  for  yourself  the  rarest  of  these," 
I  would  answer,  "  Give  me  Alupka  by  the  Eux- 
inel" 


BAIDAR   GATE  AND   VALLEY. 


BAIDAR  GATE  AND  VALLEY. 


O  Baidar  Gate!   lone  Baidar  Gate! 
What  glories  by  thy  portals  wait !  — 
Beyond  the  pines,  wide-boughed  and  old, 
Cliffs  such  as  climb  in  Alpine  hold ; 
Above,  the  blue  Crimean  sky 
Where,  in  still  noons,  the  eagles  fly, 
And  poise  as  if  'twere  bliss  to  be 
Becalmed  upon  that  azure  sea ! 
Below,  the  Euxine  with  its  sails 
Fanned  by  the  cool  Caucasian  gales; 
And,  all  between,  the  glen,  the  glade, 
Where  Tartar  girls  their  tresses  braid, 
And  slopes  where  silver  streamlets  run, 
And  gsapes  hang,  purple,  in  the  sun. 

And  when,  within  the  wood-fire's  glow, 
Fond  friends  tell  tales  of  long  ago, 
And  each  recalls  some  lovely  scene 
By  mountain  pass  or  meadow  green, — 


256  BAIDAR  GATE  AND   VALLEY. 

If  they  shall  turn  and  ask  of  me, 
The  rarest  glimpse  of  earth  and  sea, 
I'll  say,  with  memory's  joy  elate, 
"  'Tis  Baidar  Gate  1  'tis  Baidar  Gate  1 " 

TT  was  another  cloudless  morning  when  we  left 
Alupka  for  Sevastopol. 

The  mountains  now  retreated  from  the  sea,  and 
we  traversed  for  some  distance  a  country  half  val- 
ley, half  upland,  fruitful  and  pleasant,  but  less  cul- 
tivated than  that  nearer  Yalta.  The  little  hamlets 
of  the  Tartars  were  scattered  here  and  there,  and 
we  passed  many  of  the  men  with  loads  of  hay,  — 
their  small  cattle  moving  lazily,  and  their  cart- 
wheels, clumsily  made  of  wood,  and  without  tires, 
creaking  like  the  water-wheels  of  Egypt.  They 
like  the  noise,  however,  and  say  only  a  thief  is 
afraid  to  make  it. 

Then  we  began  to  ascend,  and  were  soon  above 
valley  and  upland,  with  the  bare  cliffs  on  our  right, 
and  the  sea,  far  below,  at  our  left.  The  road 
wound  along  the  mountains,  turning  with  sharp 
angles  and  offering  at  every  turn  a  more  command- 
ing view.  The  air  was  pure  and  sweet,  and  as  the 
sun  mounted  higher,  the  dews  rose  in  cloudy  va- 
nors  and  drifted  over  the  cliffs,  while  eagles  sailed 


BAIDAR  GATE  AND   VALLEY.  257 

above  them  in  the  upper  sky,  likening  them  to  the 
misty  precipices  and  eyries  of  Glencoe. 

Steadily  climbing,  we  ascended  till  at  a  height  of 
seven  hundred  feet  we  reached  the  summit  of  the 
Pass  and  the  Gate  of  Baidar.  This  is  an  orna- 
mental arch  of  masonry  built  as  a  barrier  across  the 
road,  so  that  travellers  coming  from  Sevastopol  can 
have  no  sight  of  the  sea  until  it  bursts  upon  them 
as  they  emerge  from  the  portals. 

For  some  time  we  had  forborne  to  look  back ; 
but  now,  with  great  peaks  rising  about  us,  we  dis- 
mounted to  enjoy  the  scene.  Lo  !  at  our  feet  the 
lovely  landscape  ;  and,  beyond,  the  sea  —  radiant, 
glorious,  dosing  itself  in  the  distant  blue  !  So  cloud- 
less was  the  sky,  so  transparent  the  air,  that  it 
seemed  as  if,  with  steady  gaze,  we  might  discern 
the  shining  summits  of  the  Caucasian  chain,  and 
catch,  in  the  southwest,  the  gleam  of  the  minarets 
of  Stamboul  !  Silent  as  we  stood,  looking  afar,  an 
eagle  wheeled,  in  low  flight,  just  above  us  ;  and  the 
droning  songs  of  Tartars  with  their  teams  came  up 
from  the  valley  on  the  wind.  Then  we  passed 
under  the  Gate,  and  the  superb  picture  became  a 
vision  of  memory. 
VI 


258  BAIDAR  GATE  AND   VALLEY. 

Our  road  now  descended  into  the  Vale  of  Baidar, 
one  of  the  most  charming  portions  of  the  Crimea, 
though  with  but  few  inhabitants  and  little  culture. 
Through  it  runs  the  Tchernaia,  falling  into  the  sea 
at  Sevastopol.  On  either  side  were  forests  of  oak, 
beech,  walnut,  alder,  and  poplar,  with  wild  fruit 
trees,  and  many  elegant  shrubs,  among  them  the 
juniper  and  the  laurel ;  while  graceful  vines  — 
oftenest  the  clematis  —  clung  to  their  trunks  and 
drooped  from  their  boughs.  Hares  and  other  game 
abound  in  this  valley,  and  earlier  in  the  year  it  is 
vocal  with  the  songs  of  nightingales. 

It  was  too  late  for  flowers.  Wherever  the  turf 
was  not  shaded  it  was  brown  with  the  sun ;  but  in 
the  spring  the  region  is  a  garden  filled  with  tulips 
and  scarlet  poppies,  with  thyme  and  crocuses  and 
wild  hyacinths,  and  many  a  gay  bloom  unknown  to 
colder  fields. 

The  forest  passed,  we  came  out  upon  the  open 
vale,  and  saw  before  us  a  dilapidated  Tartar  vil- 
lage, with  the  post-station,  a  low,  wooden  house,  in 
its  midst.  Alighting  at  the  door,  whose  latch  lifted 
with  a  string,  we  were  ushered  through  a  bare 
apartment  —  evidently  the  common  guest-room  — 
into  one  larger  and  more  comfortable,  and  which 


BAIDAR  GATE  AND  VALLEY  259 

seemed  to  be  the  parlor  of  the  establishment.  The 
uneven  floor  was  spread  with  a  coarse  carpet  — 
green  paper  curtains  shaded  the- windows  —  and  in 
the  extreme  corner  were  several  pictures  of  saints 
in  metallic  frames,  and  beneath  them  a  little  table 
covered  with  books  of  devotion.  From  the  side 
windows  the  long,  narrow  kitchen  was  visible, 
opening  upon  an  interior  court ;  its  cooking  utensils 
hanging  upon  nails  and  its  store  of  crockery  dis- 
played in  a  doorless  cupboard.  A  Tartar  woman, 
with  a  yellow  handkerchief  over  her  head,  was  busy 
with  the  pots  and  pans ;  and  beyond  wTere  the  sta- 
bles, and  men  caring  for  the  horses. 

Adjoining  the  "  parlor  "  was  a  bed-room  —  the 
bed  round  and  high  with  feathers  and  covered  with 
an  elaborate  patch-work  quilt.  Here  two  comely 
young  girls,  daughters  of  the  station-keeper,  were 
busj'  folding  and  ironing  clothes  which  looked  white 
and  clear  as  those  of  the  most  fastidious  New  Eng- 
land housekeeper.  They  wore  short  skirts  and 
loose  sacques  of  calico ;  and  while  the  brown  hair  of 
one  was  closely  braided,  the  other  had  her  lighter 
locks  prisoned  in  curl-papers ;  but,  disappearing  for 
a  moment,  she  returned  with  flowing  ringlets  and 
a  string  of  bright  beads  about  her  fair  neck. 

We  could   speak   but  few  words  of  Russ,  and 


260  BAIDAR   GATE  AND  VALLEY. 

they  not  a  word  of  anything  else  ;  yet  we  grew 
quite  social  and  they  entertained  us  by  their 
tact  and  liveliness.  They  submitted  their  nicely- 
starched  frills  to  our  inspection,  and  drew  from  the 
clothes-basket  under-garments  with  edgings  and  let- 
ters  of  their  own  embroidery.  On  the  table  was 
an  old,  highly-colored  fashion  plate,  and  the  elder 
handed  it  to  me  with  an  air  which  said,  "  We,  too, 
know  something  of  the  great  world."  Then,  at 
our  request,  she  took  a  guitar  from  its  case,  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  and  they  both  sang  and  played  sev- 
eral songs  in  a  simple,  pleasing  style. 

Presently  the  mother  appeared  —  a  woman  ex- 
actly like  her  daughters,  only  stouter  and  graver 

—  and  announced  that  our  lunch  was  ready.  Set 
upon  the  small  table  we  found  a  quaint  urn  filled 
with  delicious  coffee  which  had  been  roasted  since 
our  arrival,  and  rich  cream  with  rusks.  A  few 
minutes  later  the  carriage  was  brought  to  the  door, 
and  amid  pleasant-sounding  Russian  farewells  we 
bid  the  family  good-morning. 

"  Who  knows  ? "   we   said,  as  we   drove   away. 
'*  Those  frills  and  edgings  may  be  part  of  the  young  * 
girls'  wedding  trousseau.    However  it  be,  may  they 
win  what  is  doubtless  the  height  of  their  ambition 

—  kindly  husbands  and  stations  of  their  own." 


SEVASTOPOL. 


SEVASTOPOL. 


Over  the  Dead  is  a  radiant  sky, 

And  a  light  wind  blows  from  the  Vale  of  Baidar  ; 
But  what  care  they  as  they  mutely  lie  — 

Column  and  captain,  steed  and  rider  ? 

Tulips  and  poppies  can  never  bloom 
Dear  to  their  slumber  as  English  daisies  ; 

Nor  the  nightingale's  warble  in  boweiy  gloom 
Atone  for  the  skylark's  rapturous  mazes. 

Ghostly  cities  and  nameless  graves  — 
This  is  the  sum  of  the  battle's  story  1 

And  the  wind  of  Baidar  the  brown  grass  waves, 
And  sighs  above  them,  "  Alas  for  Glory  I " 

rj^HE  plain  crossed,  we  came  to  a  range  of  hills 
—  the  subsiding;  swells  of  the  Ya'i'la  chain  — 
and  toiling  slowly  up  the  ascent,  reached  a  high 
level,  the  battle-ground  of  the  Crimean  war.  On 
our  left  was  Balaklava,  its  bay  just  visible  through 
a  ravine  ;  on  our  right  the  Heights  of  Inkerman  ; 


264  SEVASTOPOL. 

Cathcart's  Hill  covered  with  graves,  and  many  a 
spot  famous  in  the  story  of  the  time.  Few  habita- 
tions were  in  sight,  and  the  whole  upland,  rich  but 
neglected,  and  encircled  by  tawny  mountains  tree- 
less and  glowing  in  the  sun,  was  strikingly  like 
that  battle-plain  of  Palestine  —  Esdraelon. 

The  day  was  declining,  and  without  lingering 
among  its  mournful  scenes,  between  bare  hills  we 
hastened  down  the  sloping  road  that  led  to  the 
town.  Many  Tartars  passed  us,  stretched  at  full 
length  upon  their  empty  carts,  while  the  plodding 
cattle  picked  their  unguided  way  along  the  broad, 
dusty  track.  Then  came  a  distant  glimpse  of  the 
sea,  and  soon  we  were  in  the  suburbs  of  the  noted 
stronghold  of  the  Crimea. 

Demons  of  Destruction  !  What  a  hideous  spec- 
tre, a  frightful  ruin,  met  our  gaze  for  that  which 
had  been  Sevastopol  —  the  August  City  !  Long 
lines  of  buildings,  once  lofty  structures  of  stone, 
now  mere  shells,  roofless,  windowless,  with  shat- 
tered columns,  or  but  single  walls  and  foundations, 
and  all  scarred  and  blackened  and  battered,  with 
heaps  of  rubbish  at  their  base ;  the  unrivaled 
harbor  deserted,  and  life  and  activity  only  where 
new  dwellings  had  been  reared  upon  the  wreck  of 


SEVASTOPOL.  265 

the  old  —  a  sight  to  make  one  forever  shocked  and 
disgusted  at  the  thought  of  war !  The  very  sunlight 
seemed  to  pale  before  the  desolation ;  and  it  was 
with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  we  escaped  from  the  mel- 
ancholy streets  into  the  hotel. 

A  quiet  day's  rest,  with  stories  of  the  bombard- 
ment from  our  German  landlord  (one  of  the  few 
citizens  who  did  not  leave  the  place  during  the 
war),  and  we  drove  out  again  to  see  the  burial 
fields  and  the  scenes  of  the  conflict.  We  had  be- 
come a  little  accustomed  to  the  devastation,  and 
could  now  see  isolated  buildings  and  parts  of 
streets  redeemed  from  the  general  ruin.  Work- 
men were  busy  upon  a  cathedral  shrining  some 
eminent  officers  killed  in  the  siege ;  and,  over  the 
bay,  the  Russian  Monumental  Church  lifted  its 
cross  in  memory  of  the  brave. 

Sevastopol  has  a  commanding  site,  and  its  revi- 
val is  only  a  question  of  time.  House  by  house 
and  square  by  square  the  resurrection  will  go  on  ; 
and,  doubtless,  some  future  day,  prouder  than  ever 
it  will  bear  the  name  of  the  August  City  and  the 
Stronghold  of  the  Euxine. 

Now  we  came  to  the   high,  rolling  plain   above 


266  SEVASTOPOL. 

the  town,  sloping  on  one  side  to  the  valley  towards 
Balaklava,  and  rising,  on  the  other,  to  the  Heights 
of  Inkerman  —  naked  and  cleft  and  brown  as  the 
mountains  of  Moab.  The  soil  is  good,  but  almost 
the  whole  extent  is  a  bare,  weed-grown  waste,  with 
only  here  and  there  a  dwelling. 

On  a  ridge  overlooking  the  sea  is  the  French 
Cemetery.  It  is  a  square,  with  uniform,  appro- 
priate, handsome  tombs  along  its  sides,  and  a  mon- 
umental one  in  the  centre,  having  marble  slabs 
upon  which  are  inscribed  the  names  of  the  officers 
of  the  various  regiments  there  interred.  There 
are  walks  about,  and  the  unoccupied  spaces  are 
filled  with  plants  and  flowers.  A  wall  of  substan- 
tial masonry  incloses  it,  and  both  this  and  the 
avenue  through  which  you  approach  are  shaded  by 
locust-trees.  At  the  entrance  is  a  small,  neat 
house  occupied  by  the  keeper,  who  receives  eight 
hundred  dollars  a  year  for  caring  for  the  grounds. 

But  what  shall  be  said  of  the  Burial  Places  of 
the  English  ? 

After  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  their  com- 
ing hither ;  after  the  charge  of  the  Light  Brigade, 
and  countless  deeds  of  signal  valor  ;  after  heroic 
patience  under  suffering,  and  at  last,  for  so  many, 


SEVASTOPOL.  267 

death  in  this  alien  land,  it  is  amazing  that  the 
dead  should  be  left  to  lie,  apparently  friendless  and 
forgotten.  There  are  perhaps  twenty  small  inclos- 
ures  scattered  about ;  the  principal  one  surrounded 
by  a  low,  ordinary  wall,  with  a  single  poor  monu- 
ment and  a  few  head-stones,  but  most  of  its  graves 
without  slab  or  number. 

There  was  neither  shrub  nor  tree  to  relieve  the 
poverty  of  the  place.  The  wild  flowers  had  with- 
ered long  before  in  the  fierce  heat,  and  tiny  white 
snails  clung  to  the  dead  grass  and  gave  it  an  ap- 
pearance of  utter  neglect  and  barrenness.  Outside 
these  pitiful  grounds,  the  slopes  and  hollows  are 
dotted  with  graves  which  have  nothing  to  distin- 
guish them  from  the  common  soil ;  where  the  stray 
cattle  may  crop  the  turf,  and  the  roving  Gypsy 
pitch  his  tent,  unmolested.  And,  for  all,  the  only 
requiem  is  the  wind  moaning  over  the  hill,  or  per- 
chance the  plaintive  song  of  the  nightingale ;  and 
the  only  "  Decoration  Day,"  when  spring  with 
gentle  fingers  strews  the  sod  with  scarlet  poppies 
(how  much  dearer  were  the  pink-tipped  daisies  of 
the  fields  at  home  !)  and  the  train  of  brilliant, 
evanescent  blooms  with  which  she  keeps  here  the 
carnival  of  the  year  I 


268  SEVASTOPOL. 

At  the  Cemetery — for  with  this  name  they  dig- 
nify the  largest  of  the  inclosures  —  I  sought  in  vain 
among  the  burnt  grass  for  a  flower.  Just  as  we 
turned  to  leave,  I  found,  under  the  shade  of  a  pro- 
jecting stone  in  the  wall,  a  little  blossom  of  almost 
as  deep  a  color  as  the  purple-black  lilies  of  Pales- 
tine —  a  bloom  which  might  well  have  sprung  from 
the  dust  of  heroes  unremembered. 

It  lies  before  me  as  I  write,  the  leaves  darkly 
dyed,  as  when  it  grew  beneath  the  Crimean  sky, 
and  with  its  hue  come  back  the  wide,  desolate 
plain  ;  the  tawny  mountains ;  the  wind  rustling  the 
grass  over  the  unknown  graves.  God  grant  the 
mothers  and  wives  and  children  of  those  who  rest 
there,  truly  loved  and  lamented,  may  never  know 
how  sad  and  untended  is  the  place  of  their  repose  ! 
If  England  will  do  nothing  worthy  of  her  soldiers, 
dead,  let  her  rear  a  pillar  among  the  fast-sinking 
mounds,  and  write  on  its  front,  Oblivion  I 


ODESSA. 


F 


ODESSA. 


Dreaming  and  looking  seaward, 

No  longer  the  warders  wait, 
Guard  of  the  Crescent  banner, 

Gleaming  on  tower  and  gate  — 
The  banner  unfurled  by  the  Prophet, 

The  banner  in  league  with  Fate. 

Nor  boom  the  guns  of  the  Fortress, 

When  sunset  airs  blow  free, 
While  the  warriors  kneel,  as  the  echoes 

Die  over  steppe  and  sea  — 
Kneel  and  pray  that  the  Moslem, 

Lord  of  the  world  may  be. 

Gone  are  the  Turk,  and  the  Crescent, 

And  the  Fortress  of  Khodja  Bey; 
And  lo!  in  their  place,  Odessa, 

And  the  Russ  with  a  grander  sway  — 
The  Russ  and  the  Royal  Eagle, 

That  makes  the  Fate  his  prey  I 

ROM    the    deck    of    the    Odessa   steamer   we 
watched   the   ruined   streets   and    dismantled 


272  ODESSA. 

forts  of  Sevastopol  sink  beneath  the  waves,  while 
we  sped  westward  over  an  unruffled  sea.  At  even- 
ing the  boat  lay  for  an  hour  off  Eupatoria,  whose 
white  buildings  had  a  pleasing  appearance,  as  seen 
from  the  water.  Then  her  prow  was  turned  from 
the  shore,  and  we  stood  west  again. 

It  was  noon  of  the  next  day  when  we  came  to 
Odessa,  the  great  commercial  city  of  Southern 
Russia,  and,  before  the  rise  of  Chicago,  the  largest 
grain-market  in  the  world.  Built  on  a  high  lime- 
stone bluff,  with  long  piers  reaching  out  to  protect 
the  harbor,  and  a  gigantic  staircase  of  stone,  sup- 
ported on  arches,  and  extending  from  the  height  to 
the  shore,  it  looks  finely  as  you  approach  it  from 
the  sea,  through  the  many  ships  and  boats  loading 
and  discharging  their  cargoes. 

Originally  a  Turkish  fortress,  it  was  taken  by 
the  Russians  during  the  reign  of  the  Empress  Cath- 
erine, and  a  town  at  once  begun  as  a  port  for  the 
grain  regions  of  the  South.  From  the  first  it  seems 
to  have  been  energetic  and  ambitious.  It  peti- 
tioned the  Emperor  Paul  for  a  grant  of  armorial 
bearings;  for  a  free  port;  and  for  immunities  like 
those  accorded  to  Revel  and  Riga  ;  and,  as  a  sug- 
gestion of  what  its  trade  was  to  become,  it  sent  him 


ODESSA.  273 

the  rare  present  of  three  thousand  fine  oranges. 
He  received  the  fruit,  but  rejected  the  petition,  ex- 
cept as  it  related  to  the  coat  of  arms.  His  succes- 
sors, however,  have  granted  all;  and  with  their 
favor  and  the  judicious  help  and  counsel  of  able 
men  —  conspicuous  among  them  the  Princes  Wo- 
ronzoff,  and  the  Duke  de  Richlieu,  a  French  exile, 
who,  for  many  years,  made  it  his  home  —  it  has  at- 
tained its  present  size  and  importance.  Its  growth 
would  have  been  more  rapid  but  for  the  slow,  inad- 
equate communication  with  the  surrounding  coun- 
try. The  railway  now  finished  to  Kieff,  and  others 
which  are  sure  to  follow,  will  fill  its  granaries  and 
freight  its  ships  with  the  wealth  of  the  vast  inte- 
rior. 

The  steppe,  in  its  immediate  vicinity,  is  totally 
unfit  for  vegetation.  The  soil  cracks  and  becomes 
like  stone  in  the  sun,  and  it  is  only  close  to  the 
coast,  and  by  the  most  assiduous  care,  that  vine- 
yards and  gardens  are  made  productive.  Fierce 
storms  from  the  east  and  southeast  sweep  over  it. 
In  winter  it  is  cold  and  misty  and  muddy ;  in  sum- 
mer hot  and  choked  with  dust.  At  the  latter  sea- 
son, when  there  is  neither  shade  nor  coolness  to 
be  found  in  the  city,  all  the  wealthy  people  leave 

18 


274  ODESSA. 

for  their  sea-side  villas,  or  the  watering-places  of 
the  Crimea.  The  handsomest  street  fronts  the  sea, 
with  the  Exchange  at  one  end,  the  Woronzoff  man- 
sion at  the  other,  and  the  largest  hotel,  the  HStel 
de  Londres,  in  the  middle.  There  we  took  up  our 
temporary  abode. 

Ever  since  its  foundation  Odessa  has  been  a  ren- 
dezvous for  all  races  and  professions.  Not  in  the 
bazaars  of  Constantinople  will  one  hear  a  greater 
variety  of  languages  than  among  the  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  people  here  assembled.  For  com- 
mercial purposes,  as  in  the  cities  of  the  Levant, 
Italian  is  chiefly  employed.  The  buildings  are  of 
stone,,  and  the  streets  ai'e  in  process  of  paving  by 
an  English  company.  Fresh  water  is  brought  from 
without,  into  the  city,  and  filtered  sea-water  is  used 
for  many  purposes.  Fuel,  also,  is  obtained  from  a 
distance,  the  barren  steppe  producing  neither  wood 
nor  coal. 

It  was  still  midsummer  weather.  During  the 
heat  of  the  day  the  city  reposed,  but  the  mornings 
and  evenings  were  full  of  life  and  business.  I  did 
not  wonder  when  I  saw  the  fine  shops  with  elab- 
orate painted  signs,  and  as  much  French  as  Russ 
in  the  inscriptions,  that  the  lady  from  the  interior 


ODESSA.  275 

came  here  for  "  the  modes."  Most  of  the  elegan- 
cies of  Paris  could  be  purchased  in  them,  but  at 
enhanced  prices.  In  the  Greek  and  Armenian  ba- 
zaars the  East  was  as  well  represented.  Here  were 
the  gold  and  silver  work  of  Tiflis —  the  belts,  the 
brooches,  and  the  earrings ;  the  embroidered  jack- 
ets of  Circassia ;  the  silks  and  tissues  of  Broussa 
and  Adrianople  ;  the  slippers  of  Teheran,  and  even 
the  shawls  of  Bokhara ;  and  whatever  of  rarity  the 
Sultan's  capital  could  send  to  its  northern  neighbor. 

Each  class  of  inhabitants  —  nobles,  merchants, 
Jews  —  has  its  own  quarter  and  place  of  meeting. 
The  only  common  ground  seemed  to  be  the  cafe's, 
which  were  filled  with  a  varied  crowd,  smoking, 
talking,  and  sipping  wines  and  coffee.  Fruit  shops 
abounded,  with  great  heaps  of  melons  at  the  doors, 
and,  in  some,  pears  which  exactly  resembled  small, 
variegated  squashes. 

One  day,  towards  evening,  we  rode  through  and 
about  the  city,  and  noticed  with  interest  that  many 
customs  and  fashions,  such  as  the  mode  of  harness- 
ing horses,  and  the  dress  of  coachmen,  which  had 
seemed  so  novel  to  us  when  we  first  stepped  upon 
Russian  soil  at  Abo,  Finland,  were  just  the  same 
here    in    the  extreme   South.      The  dust    rose    in 


276  ODESSA. 

clouds  at  every  turn  of  the  wheels,  and  the  acacias 
which  with  great  pains  have  been  planted  along 
the  wide,  regular  streets,  were  often  as  brown  with 
it  as  the  pavement.  Nothing  escaped  its  defilement 
but  the  church-towers,  lifted  above  its  ashen  clouds. 
And  how  fine  are  some  of  these  towers  !  Critics 
may  say  what  they  will  of  Russian  Church  archi- 
tecture —  call  it  "  debased  Byzantine,"  "  Tartar- 
esque,"  or  any  other  reproachful  name  which  suits 
their  whim  —  to  my  eye  it  is  always  pleasing  and 
often  very  beautiful.  Have  the  orders  and  styles 
of  past  ages  exhausted  the  capabilities  of  form  ? 
Are  changes  and  combinations  necessarily  mon- 
strosities ?  "  Debased,"  indeed !  I  wish  every 
city  in  America  had  a  church  as  imposing  as  one 
we  saw,  scarcely  finished,  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
town,  its  lofty  tower  upholding  a  graceful,  swelling 
dome  that  seemed  poised  as  lightly  and  naturally 
as  a  golden  lily  on  its  stem !  And,  more  than 
domes  and  towers,  I  wish  that  from  our  churches 
as  from  those  of  Russia,  pews  were  excluded,  and 
the  space  within  were  free  to  the  lowest  as  to  the 
highest,  to  the  beggar  as  to  the  millionaire  —  all 
equal  in  the  presence  of  God.  Then  the  sermon 
would  be  less,  but  the  worship  of  the  united  con- 


ODESSA.  277 

gregation  more,  and  the  poor,  who  have  greatest 
need  of  beauty  and  cheer,  would  not  be  banished 
from  our  finest  churches  as,  in  effect,  they  are 
now. 

Next  to  the  churches,  the  most  prominent  build- 
ings were  the  great  stone  granaries,  and  the  slaugh- 
ter-houses, where  countless  cattle  —  the  gray  herds 
of  the  steppe  —  are  converted  into  tallow.  On  the 
outskirts  were  numerous  small,  rude  dwellings,  the 
abodes  of  the  peasants  who  have  flocked  here  to 
better  their  fortunes  ;  and  in  an  open  space  was  a 
Gypsy  encampment.  The  men  were  doubtless  ply- 
ing their  various  trades  and  arts  within  the  city  ; 
but  the  women  and  children  hung  about  the  tents, 
clothed  in  dirt  and  rags,  yet  some  of  them  notice- 
ably handsome,  with  lithe,  slender  forms,  and  an 
untamable  look  in  their  black  eyes,  fascinating,  yet 
fearful  to  behold. 

Just  where  the  town  met  the  steppe,  we  came 
upon  a  long  line  of  carts  from  the  far  country,  filled 
with  wheat  for  the  market.  It  was  a  characteristic 
and  interesting  sight,  for  formerly  all  the  grain  was 
brought  to  town  in  this  way.  The  carts  were  sim- 
ilar to  those  of  the  Tartars,  wholly  of  wood,  with- 
out tire  or  nail.     Each  held   perhaps   twenty-five 


278  ODESSA. 

bushels  of  wheat,  and  was  drawn  by  two  oxen, 
gray,  small,  slow-moving  cattle,  attached  to  it  by  a 
harness  of  ropes.  The  axles  would  get  on  fire 
with  the  constant  friction,  were  it  not  for  frequent 
use  of  the  vile  grease  carried  in  a  little  pot  hanging 
beneath. 

But  how  shall  I  describe  the  men  walking  by  the 
teams  ?  Never  before  had  I  so  vivid  an  idea  of  a 
serf.  Their  faces  were  as  dull  as  those  of  the  bul- 
locks they  drove,  and  they  moved  in  the  same  leth- 
argic way.  They  seemed  to  be  rather  fair  of  hair 
and  complexion,  but  were  so  begrimed  with  dust  it 
was  difficult  to  tell.  Some  were  bareheaded,  and 
all  wore  blouse  and  trousers  of  coarsest  sacking, 
fastened  about  the  middle  with  a  rope  or  a  strap  of 
leather.  Gloomily  stupid,  they  looked  as  if  they 
had  never  had  an  emotion  in  their  lives.  They 
had  come,  perhaps  from  the  borders  of  Poland, 
perhaps  from  Kieff,  for  then  the  railway  thither 
was  unfinished.  We  looked  after  them  as  they 
plodded  on,  and  commiserated  their  lot.  Born  of 
ancestors  equally  degraded,  they  had  had  nothing 
to  waken  thought  or  hope  or  ambition.  The  grain 
they  carried  was  not  their  own,  but  belonged  to 
some    landed   proprietor    who  would   pay  them    a 


ODESSA.  279 

mere  pittance  for  the  journey.  They  had  travelled 
ten  or  twelve  miles  a  day  and  then  halted ;  and 
while  their  cattle  ate  the  grass  by  the  road-side, 
they  had  made  a  meal  of  buckwheat  porridge  or  rye 
bread,  —  for  wheat  they  seldom  taste,  —  and  then 
slept  under  their  carts.  It  was  one  of  this  class  to 
whom  Prince  DemidofF  refers  in  his  account  of 
travel  through  this  region  —  a  man  ill,  and  without 
aid,  in  whose  hut  he  sought  refuge  from  a  storm. 
"  Ah  !  "  said  the  uncomplaining  sufferer,  when  his 
visitor  expressed  pity  for  his  condition,  "peasants 
were  not  sent  into  this  world  for  their  own  pleas- 
ure." 

Thank  God !  the  day  of  pleasure  for  peasants  is 
coming  !  The  Czar  has  made  them  free  men,  and 
with  the  knowledge  of  their  manhood  their  dor- 
mant faculties  will  awake.  The  elder  men  of  this 
generation  will  not  greatly  change  ;  but  their  chil- 
dren will  have  education  and  gain  wealth  and 
power.  They  will  send  their  own  wheat  to  Odessa, 
and  eat  of  the  best  of  the  land  at  home,  and  tales 
of  the  days  of  servitude  will  seem  as  far  off  as  if 
they  had  been  in  another  world ! 

Twilight  was  deepening  as  we  returned  to  the 
hotel.     It  was  the  "  Name's  day  "  of  the  Czar  — 


280  SEVASTOPOL. 

the  festival  day  of  Saint  Alexander  Nevski,  whose 
name  he  bears,  —  and  the  principal  streets  and  build- 
ings were  brilliantly  illuminated.  The  Exchange 
presented  a  beautiful  appearance,  with  a  motto  in 
Russ  blazing  upon  its  front,  and,  beneath,  the  Era- 
Deror's  cipher  surmounted  by  a  crown,  and  encircled 
with  flame.  The  harvest  moon  shone  over  the  sea ; 
the  streets  were  filled  with  merry  people ;  and,  re- 
membering the  uplifting  of  the  nation,  we  could 
have  exclaimed  as  heartily  as  any  Russian  of  them 
all,  "  Honor  and  long  life  to  the  Czar  I " 


OVER    THE   STEPPE   TO    KICHINEFF 


OVER  THE  STEPPE  TO   KICHINEFF. 


Hush !  heard  you  that  horseman  ?  how  madly  he  rides  I 
God  pity  the  woman  his  coming  that  bides  I 
Wild  oaths  wafted  up  on  the  wind  as  he  passed, 
And  a  shade  o'er  the  moonlight  that  moment  was  cast. 

What  stirs  there?    No  bugle  the  barracks  have  blown; 
No  drum  beats  to  quarters;  yet,  watching  alone, 
While  the  howl  of  the  dogs  fills  the  midnight  with  fear, 
Some  foe  stealing  by  in  the  darkness,  I  hear. 

Has  the  Turk  crossed  the  border?  the  Tartar  come  back 
With  the  vengeance  of  murder  and  fire  in  his  track  ? 
There  's  a  foot  by  the  window  ;  a  flame  on  the  floor ;  — 
And  lo  1  'twas  the  wind  and  the  moonbeam  —  no  more. 

TT^AREWELL  to  the  sea.  Our  course  was  now 
across  the  country  to  the  Austrian  frontier. 
It  was  a  fine  morning  in  mid-September  when 
we  left  Odessa  by  railway  for  Tirsopol,  ninety 
miles  distant,  the  farthest  point  to  the  west 
touched    by    the    then    unfinished   road    to    KiefF. 


284      OVER   TEE  STEPPE  TO  KICHINEFF. 

As  soon  as  we  had  passed  the  town  we  entered 
upon  the  bare  rolling  plain  burnt  with  the  heat  so 
as  to  be  almost  a  desert  in  appearance,  but  which 
improved  as  we  advanced  till  the  soil  looked  dark 
and  rich  like  that  of  our  prairies.  Occasional  vil- 
lages of  small  houses  with  a  large  church  in  their 
midst;  immense  quantities  of  hay  stacked  on  the 
plains,  and  of  straw,  showing  where  grain  had  been 
threshed ;  groups  of  wind-mills  on  the  higher 
swells  of  land,  and  the  dwellings  of  the  railway 
workmen  near  the  track,  half  under  ground  so  that 
at  a  distance  they  seemed  to  be  all  roof ;  these 
were  the  most  striking  features  of  the  country  be- 
tween Odessa  and  Tirsopol,  where  we  arrived  at  a 
little  past  one ; — Tirsopol  on  the  Dneister,  which  has 
a  citadel  to  command  the  course  of  the  river,  and  is 
one  of  the  chief  towns  of  Bessarabia. 

In  Odessa  we  had  secured  an  order  for  post- 
horses,  and  a  comfortable  carriage  which  came  up 
with  us  on  the  train,  and  while  the  courier  went  to 
the  post-house  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements, 
we  waited,  at  the  railway  station,  and  lunched, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  country,  on  bread  and  tea. 
The  great  room  was  crowded  with  those  who  had 
just  arrived  and  those  who  were  to  take  the  train 


OVER  THE  STEPPE  TO  KICHINEFF.      285 

a  few  hours  later ;  for  time  had  not  yet  become 
valuable  here,  and  the  railway  was  an  object  of 
curious  interest  to  all.  Companies  of  cartmen, 
such  as  we  had  seen  near  Odessa,  and  who  had 
brought  their  grain  to  the  station  instead  of  taking 
the  long  journey  to  the  port,  peered  in  at  the  doors 
or  walked  about,  examining  the  track  and  the  cars. 
Polish  Jews,  with  black  robes  and  curling  ear- 
locks,  stood  talking  apart.  A  peasant  father  and 
mother  sat  in  one  corner,  shy  and  observant,  sur- 
rounded by  their  luggage  in  queer  bags  and  bun- 
dles, and  were  very  much  disturbed  because  their 
children  —  three  sturdy  little  boys  with  cropped 
hair  and  droll  jackets  covered  with  buttons  — 
dared  to  run  about  and  make  a  noise.  Opposite 
them  were  an  old  and  a  young  lady,  evidently 
people  of  "  quality,"  dressed  in  the  Paris  fashions 
of  perhaps  twenty  years  ago,  and  served  by  an  ob- 
sequious maid  whose  attire  was  at  least  a  quarter 
of  a  century  behind  their  own.  Tartar  workmen 
were  continually  going  through,  leaving  wide-open 
doors  which  the  boys  amused  themselves,  in  spite 
of  their  mother,  by  shutting  with  a  slam ;  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  undisturbed  by  the  commo- 
tion, sat  an  Armenian  with  a  shining  black  port- 


286      OVER   THE  STEPPE  TO  KICHINEFF. 

manteau  by  his  side,  and  paper  and  pencil  in  hia 
hand,  doubtless  summing  up  the  gains  of  his  last 
trading  adventure.  Near  the  door  stood  an  open 
cask  of  fresh  water  with  a  long-handled  wooden 
dipper  floating  on  the  top,  and  almost  all  who  went 
in  or  out  stopped  to  drink  of  it  —  the  small  boys 
taking  such  frequent  and  copious  draughts  that  at 
length  their  father,  overcoming  his  timidity,  rose 
and  dragging  them  away,  ranged  them  in  a  forlorn 
row  against  the  wall. 

These  things  entertained  us  until  the  carriage 
was  brought  to  the  door,  with  four  horses  har- 
nessed abreast  and  furnished  with  bells,  and  a  Tar- 
tar driver.  We  set  off  at  a  furious  gallop  ;  and 
what  with  the  speed  and  the  clouds  of  dust  that 
enveloped  us,  we  hardly  had  a  glimpse  of  the  town 
before  it  was  left  behind  and  we  were  on  the  great 
post-road,  the  thoroughfare  across  the  steppe  from 
the  Black  Sea  to  Poland. 

From  eight  to  ten  miles  an  hour  is  the  ordinary 
rate  of  travel  here.  Then  the  station  is  reached 
and  both  horses  and  driver  are  changed.  The 
number  of  miles,  or  versts,  from  one  station  to  the 
next  is  marked  on  posts  set  up  by  the  way- side  and 
painted   with    the    Imperial    colors;  and    often,    so 


OVER  THE  STEPPE  TO  KICHINEFF.      287 

level  is  the  steppe,  several  of  these  posts  are  in 
view  at  once.  There  are  no  roads  worthy  of  the 
name  except  these  Government  highways,  and  over 
them  all  the  traffic  and  travel  of  the  country  must 
pass.  At  intervals  we  met  carts  filled  with  grain 
going  to  the  town  or  returning  after  discharging 
their  loads,  the  drivers  counterparts  of  those  we 
had  previously  seen.  Great  herds  of  cattle,  and 
of  sheep,  both  black  and  white,  fed  about ;  wind- 
mills were  common  ;  and,  as  we  went  on,  fields  of 
Indian  corn,  pleasant  to  American  eyes,  varied  the 
monotony  of  the  broad  level. 

Its  monotony  —  and  yet  the  steppe  is  not  with- 
out picturesque  and  striking  features.  Here,  when 
the  sun  rises  and  disturbs  the  brooding  mists,  the 
forests  and  cities  of  the  mirage  shine  along  the  hor- 
izon ;  and  his  setting  is  often  with  such  marshaling 
of  clouds  and  splendor  of  colors  as  the  hills  never 
know.  Here,  too,  are  those  strange  monuments 
of  forgotten  ages,  the  funereal  Mounds  —  the 
Khourgans  of  the  Tartars  —  reared  and  conse- 
crated by  a  race  long  passed  away ;  up  whose 
sides  the  shepherds  climb  to  see  their  flocks,  and, 
wrapped  in  their  rude  capotes,  sleep,  or  drowsily 
watch  the  dark  lines   upon  the  silent  plain.     We 


288      OVER  THE  STEPPE  TO  KICHINEFF. 

saw  them  at  intervals,  all  the  way  from  Odessa  to 
the  frontier  —  low,  rounded  banks  dark  against  the 
sky  —  mysterious  relics  which  neither  the  violence 
nor  the  storms  of  centuries  have  been  able  to  de- 
stroy. 

The  sun  set  in  crimson  glory,  and  the  full  moon 
rose,  yellow,  in  the  east.  The  evening  was  so 
pleasant  that  we  concluded  to  prolong  our  journey 
to  Kichineff,  the  capital  of  Bessarabia.  A  cool 
wind  came  with  the  dew,  and  we  went  rapidly  on 
over  an  undulating  country  which  at  length  be- 
came almost  hilly,  so  that  for  the  last  stage  we  had 
six  horses  and  a  postillion.  The  custom  here  is  to 
drive  very  fast  up  hill  and  very  slow  down.  At 
every  little  declivity  a  post  was  seen  bearing  a 
board  with  a  brake  painted  upon  it,  black  on  a 
white  ground. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock  when  we  reached 
Kichineff  and  whirled  through  the  wide  streets  to 
what  the  driver  assured  us  was  its  best  hotel.  O, 
Frequenters  of  the  "  Clarendon"  and  the  "  Conti- 
nental I  "  what  would  you  have  said  to  the  inn  of 
the  Bessarabian  capital?  —  a  broad,  low,  white- 
washed house  at  the  back  of  a  paved  yard,  with 
the  interior  roughly  finished  —  a  few  battered  arti- 


OVER  THE  STEPPE  TO  KICHINEFF.      289 

cles  of  furniture  that  looked  as  if  for  generations 
they  might  have  been  heir-looms  in  the  owner's 
family  —  the  long,  empty  room  into  which  we  were 
ushered  lighted  by  a  tallow  candle  set  on  a  narrow 
mantel  near  the  ceiling — and  the  inmates,  from 
the  host  to  the  stable-boy,  running  about ;  opening 
and  shutting  doors ;  issuing  orders  in  various  un- 
known tongues  ;  and  at  length  bringing  in  the  tea- 
urn  and  placing  it,  with  meat  and  bread,  upon  the 
table  before  us. 

Our  bed-rooms  — just  beyond,  upon  the  first 
floor,  with  small  windows  but  a  few  feet  from  the 
ground  —  were  barer  and  plainer  than  the  large 
apartment.  The  town  was  full  of  dogs,  barking 
and  howling  like  their  kind  at  Constantinople. 
Now  and  then  a  horseman  clattered  down  the 
street.  Some  servants'  brawl  or  a  riotous  arrival 
kept  up  a  tumult  in  the  yard  ;  and  the  whole  was 
so  like  an  adventure  in  a  story-book  that  it  was 
long  before  I  fell  asleep.  Then  it  was  to  wake  and 
see  if  the  clumsy  stool  was  just  where  I  had  placed 
it,  against  the  door ;  and  to  question  if  the  light  on 
the  wall  was  really  nothing  but  the  moon  shining 
through  the  dim  panes  of  the  uncurtained  window. 

We  rose  early,  hoping  to  leave  before  the  sun 


290  OVER  THE  STEPPE  TO  KICH1NEFF. 

was  high,  but  in  this  we  had  reckoned  without  our 
host.  The  people  appeared  kind  and  willing  to  do 
everything  in  their  power,  but  they  had  neither 
method  nor  sense  of  time.  What  a  waking  up 
there  will  be  in  that  hotel,  and  in  all  Kichineff, 
when  the  railway  train  thunders  through  and  trav- 
eller and  native  must  be  at  the  station  to  meet  it ! 
Before  six  o'clock  the  cloth  was  laid  in  the  large 
room  for  our  breakfast.  It  was  after  eight  when 
we  sat  down  to  the  table.  And  all  this  time  the 
wraiter  had  been  hurrying  back  and  forth,  bringing 
now  a  plate,  now  a  knife  and  fork,  now  a  cup  of 
salt,  and  at  each  entrance  he  assured  us  that  break- 
fast would  be  in  "  directly."  One  of  our  party 
asked  for  water-cresses  ;  whereupon  landlord  and 
waiter  held  a  serious  consultation  which  resulted  in 
dispatching  a  boy  to  the  market.  Just  as  we  were 
leaving  the  table  he  burst  in  with  a  flushed,  trium- 
phant face,  holding  high  a  small  bunch  of  the  fresh 
leaves — proof  of  what  determination  can  do  even 
in  Kichineff. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  drove  out  of  the  hotel  yard, 
eager  to  view  the  capital  and  its  ninety  thousand 
inhabitants. 


KICHINEFF  TO   BELZL 


KICIIINEFF   TO   BELZI. 


Here  the  white  cattle  graze  that  feed 

The  Austrian  Kaiser's  towns, 
Close-watched  by  dogs  alert  to  leap 

If  but  the  herder  frowns  ; 
And  here  the  shepherd  tends  his  flock 

While  the  long  days  go  by  — 
Now  couched  beside  them  in  the  plain, 

Now  on  the  khourgans  high. 
The  plover  calls  across  the  steppe ; 

The  stork,  with  snowy  breast, 
Flies  northward  to  the  kindly  roof 

That  holds  her  summer  nest ; 
But  nothing  stirs  his  drowsy  blood 

Unless  a  lamb  should  stray  — 
Then  woe  to  wolf  or  Gypsy  thief 

That  lurks  beside  the  way. 

TTTHAT  did  we  see  ?     A  vast  town  spread  over 

uneven,  almost  hilly  ground  ;  its  wide  streets 

lined  with  shabby,  thatched-roofed  huts,  and  large, 

handsome  buildings  here  and  there  —  the  cathedral, 


294  KICHINEFF  TO  BELZI. 

the  residence  of  the  Russo- Greek  Bishop,  barracks 
and  other  modern  structures  pertaining  to  the  Rus- 
sian rule  —  with  walls  brilliantly  white,  and  domes 
and  roofs  painted  green  ;  bazaars  open  to  the  street 
and  full  of  all  the  common  things  required  bj  such 
a  population — boots,  blouses,  gay  handkerchiefs, 
ropes,  twine,  coarse  woolens  and  linens,  and  rude 
implements  for  the  house  and  the  field ;  in  the 
market,  grapes,  melons,  apricots,  pears,  apples,  and 
women  sitting  on  the  ground  by  a  few  vegetables, 
as  in  the  East;  aged  crones,  crouching  in  the  doors, 
spinning  from  a  distaff;  groups  of  dirty-looking 
children,  clad,  like  some  of  the  women,  in  a  single 
garment  of  hempen  cloth  ;  soldiers  in  shining  uni- 
forms ;  Tartars  wearing  lambskin  caps,  coming  and 
going  with  ox-teams  loaded  with  hay  and  grain, 
and  always  lying  at  full  length  upon  the  empty 
carts;  lean,  savage  dogs  running  about;  such  was 
Kichineff — an  Arab  town  dropped  in  Russia. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  place  women  were  stand- 
ing up  to  their  knees  in  a  pool  of  water,  washing 
flax,  while  others  were  spreading  it  in  the  sun. 
Flax  is  one  of  the  chief  products  of  the  country, 
and  most  of  the  clothing  of  the  inhabitants,  at  least 
of  the  peasantry,  is  of  home  manufacture.     There 


WINDMILL  OF  TIIIO  GRAIN  REC.ION. 


KICHINEFF  TO  BELZT.  295 

were  vineyards  on  the  slopes  and  some  of  the  hills 
were  wooded. 

The  uneven  country  about  the  small  tributary 
of  the  Dneister  on  which  Kichineff  is  built,  soon 
subsided  into  the  steppe  which  is  here  very  fertile 
and,  in  its  season,  the  birth-place  of  beautiful  flow- 
ers, coming  and  going  like  those  of  our  prairies  ; 
and  the  haunt  of  cranes,  plovers,  and  other  free- 
winged  tribes  that  love  rich   and  boundless  fields. 

© 

No  stones  or  rocks  were  seen  ;  no  fences  divided 
the  domains.  Solitary  dwellings  were  rare,  even 
near  the  highway.  The  post-stations  were  in  vil- 
lages or  had  a  few  habitations  gathered  about  them. 

©  © 

They  were  low  houses,  the  interiors  poorly  finished 
with  wood,  but  the  ceilings  almost  always  painted 
in  colors  with  some  simple  pattern,  while  the  roofs 
were  the  universal  thatch  of  coarse  reeds  or  straw. 
In  all  the  towns  were  wind-mills,  and  wells  with 
long  sweeps  and  buckets. 

Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  part  of  Bessara- 
bia are  Tartars.  So  far  from  the  sea,  they  did  not 
emigrate  when  the  countrv  was  ceded  to  Russia,  as 
did  multitudes  on  its  borders ;  but  away  from  any 
centre  of  their  Faith,  and  with  the  Greek  church 
dominant,  they  are  likely  to  grow  yearly  more  lax 


296  KICHINEFF  TO  BELZI. 

in  the  observance  of  their  creed.  The  remainder 
are  Russians,  Jews,  and  representatives  of  all  the 
neighbor  races. 

The  principal  industry  is  the  rearing  of  sheep 
and  cattle  ;  indeed,  Bessarabia  is  a  grazing  ground 
to  which  herds  are  often  sent  from  afar.  It  sup- 
plies Austria  with  numerous  cattle  and  cavalry 
horses,  and  sends  great  droves  to  the  Odessa  mar- 
ket. Some  of  the  proprietors  have  a  hundred 
thousand  sheep.  These  are  of  a  hardy  breed,  the 
fine  merinos  having  been  found  unprofitable  on 
account  of  the  long  housing  they  require  in  winter. 
Nothing  is  used  to  enrich  the  land,  but  it  is  cus- 
tomary to  let  it  lie  fallow  every  third  year.  The 
common  fuel  is  dung  mixed  with  chopped  straw, 
and  dried  in  the  sun. 

Beyond  Kichineff  the  country  continued  more 
undulating  than  that  to  the  southeast.  Occasion- 
ally we  passed  forest-clothed  ridges  with  bright 
points  of  autumnal  color  gleaming  in  the  green. 
Stretches  of  Indian  corn  alternated  with  levels  cov- 
ered with  stacks  of  hay.  Great  companies  of  cat- 
tle fed  in  the  open  spaces  and  unoccupied  fields, 
and  sometimes  passed  us  on   the   road,  driven  by 


KICHINEFF  TO  BELZ1.  297 

mounted  herders,  and  raising  such  a  storm  of  dust 
that  we  could  hardly  see  them,  or  even  breathe  till 
they  had  gone  by. 

At  Orgeief,  a  town  on  the  brink  of  a  smooth  ex- 
panse like  a  New  England  meadow,  we  stopped  for 
dinner.  Entering  the  inn  by  a  flight  of  steep  stairs, 
we  sat  down  in  its  one  lar^e  room  to  wait  for  the 

o 

promised  cutlets  and  tea.  Everywhere  along  the 
route  we  found  poor,  ill-matched  crockery  in  use, 
but  here-  its  variety  was  remarkable,  and  we  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  watch  the  waiter  at  his  work. 
On  a  small,  square  table  there  were  pink  plates  and 
blue  plates ;  a  black  and  white  sugar-bowl  ;  a 
purple  milk-pitcher;  and  cups  and  saucers  of  every 
color  possible  to  coarse  earthenware.  It  was  plain 
that  contrast  was  what  the  waiter  desired.  He 
never  put  brown  cups  and  saucers  together,  but 
always  mated  them  with  red  or  green,  and  when 
he  had  set  them  out  in  a  half-circle,  folding  his 
arms  he  stood  at  a  little  distance  and  contemplated 
the  rainbow  effect  with  entire  satisfaction.  I  was 
sorry  not  to  be  able  to  speak  to  him.  I  wanted  to 
ask  on  what  occult  principle  of  taste  he  proceeded, 
and  where  the  landlord  got  such  an  astonishing  col- 
lection.    But  alas  !  we  had  not  a  word  in  common, 


298  KICH1NEFF  10  BELZI. 

and  the  history  of  that  dinner-set  I  shall    never 
know. 

All  the  afternoon  a  rolling  country;  a  wide, 
dusty  road  ;  and  corn  and  hay  and  cattle.  At  five 
o'clock  we  came  to  the  station  at  the  little  hamlet 
of  Baretchsky  and  found  that  the  stables  were 
empty,  and  we  must  wait  for  horses  to  come  in  and 
feed  before  we  could  go  on.  On  either  side  of  the 
post-house  were  several  small,  thatched  dwellings, 
half  sunk  in  the  ground,  and  before  it  the  plain 
sloped  to  a  narrow  river.  A  man  clad  in  the  uni- 
versal blouse  and  trousers  of  tow-cloth  lazily  led 
away  the  horses,  and  as  lazily  returned  with  a  pot 
of  offensive  grease  which  he  applied  to  the  car- 
riage-wheels with  his  fingers,  wiping  them,  as  he 
passed  back  into  the  stable  yard,  on  a  horse's  tail ! 
Little  children  were  playing  about  with  only  a  tow 
shirt  on,  while  the  boys  above  seven  or  eight  years 
old  were  habited  exactly  like  the  men.  The  dust 
lay  on  the  ground  like  a  bed  of  fine  ashes,  and  the 
children  were  striking  it  with  a  stick  and  making  it 
fly  high  in  the  air ;  and  playing  with  tame  turkeys, 
and  pigeons  with  feathered  legs  —  both  so  brown 
with  dust  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  the  color  of 
their  plumage. 


KICHINEFF  TO  BELZI.  299 

A  peddler  came  trudging  up  the  road  with  his 
pack  on  his  back,  and  his  arrival  made  quite  an  ex- 
citement among  the  women.  They  appeared  at 
the  cellar-like  doors  of  the  houses,  and,  with  wha 
seemed  like  words  of  welcome,  invited  him  to 
enter.  He  was  apparently  an  Armenian,  and  a 
shrewd,  good-humored  fellow  to  whom  bargaining 
was  second  nature.  Nodding  graciously,  and  say- 
ing something  equivalent,  I  fancy,  to  "  all  in  good 
time,  ladies,"  he  vanished  under  the  first  doorway. 

As  we  walked  about,  the  mistress  of  the  adjoin- 
ing house  which  was  thatched  and  low,  but,  unlike 
the  rest,  entirely  above  ground,  smiled  and  beck- 
oned us  to  come  in.  She  had  a  fair  complexion 
with  sunny  blue  eyes,  and  her  dress  was  a  dark 
woolen  petticoat,  with  a  short  linen  wrapper  and 
silver  earrings.  Entering,  we  found  a  large  room 
with  a  degree  of  comfort  which  we  had  not  ex- 
pected. In  one  corner  was  a  broad,  covered  bench, 
on  which  quilts  were  piled,  and  which  served  for  a 
bed.  There  were  wooden  stools  and  a  table ;  a 
coarse  rug  was  spread  on  the  floor,  and  at  the  far- 
ther end  was  a  fireplace  over  which  kettles  and  a 
few  dishes  were  set  with  some  regard  to  order. 

But  the  attraction  of  the  place,  and  that  which 


300  KICHINEFF   TO  BELZI. 

the  proud  young  mother  had  called  us  to  see,  was 
a  tiny  baby  asleep  in  his  liulka,  —  a  cradle  like  a 
light  wooden  tray,  suspended  by  lists  from  the 
ceiling.  As  if  he  had  been  a  prince  she  lifted  the 
blanket  that  we  might  see  his  face,  and  rocked  his 
hanging  nest  gently  to  and  fro  when  he  moved 
with  a  faint  cry.  It  was  the  Bessarabian  poem  of 
"  Philip,  my  king  !  " 

In  came  the  peddler,  followed  by  three  or  four 
women  eager  to  trade.  With  an  air  as  bland  and 
patronizing  as  that  of  his  Scotch  brother  delineated 
by  Wilkie,  he  helped  himself  to  a  stool,  and  pro- 
ceeded leisurely  to  unfold  his  treasures,  —  bright 
handkerchiefs  ;  necklaces  of  glass  and  coral  beads  ; 
earrings  ;  rolls  of  chintz  and  ribbon  ;  and  a  dozen 
other  things  charming  to  feminine  beholders,  Chris- 
tian or  Mohammedan.  The  blue-eyed  woman 
fixed,  at  once,  upon  a  string  of  beads  for  her  baby, 
and  began  to  bargain  for  it,  holding  it  on  her  fin 
gers  ;  while  the  rest  picked  up  each  article  as  he 
laid  it  down,  and  admired  and  questioned  and  dis- 
cussed until  there  was  such  a  noise  and  excitement 
in  the  low  room  that,  with  a  trifling  gift  to  the 
mother   for  baby's  necklace,  we  slipped  away. 

The  sun  was  setting  in  gorgeous  clouds,  and  the 


KICHINEFF  TO  BELZI.  301 

whole  plain  shone  with  a  momentary  splendor 
This  was  the  hour  for  watering  the  herds.  Bellow- 
ing and  filling  the  air  with  dust ;  driven  by  men  on 
horseback  carrying  heavy  whips,  and  by  fierce 
dogs  that  with  bark  and  bite  at  once  seized  upon  a 
stray  ox  and  forced  him  back  into  the  drove,  across 
the  fields  they  went  to  the  river ;  a  moving  mass 
of  gray ;  crowding  past  each  other  in  their  haste  ; 
plunging  to  the  bank  with  wild  eyes  and  flaring 
nostrils,  and  drinking  as  if  they  would  drain  the 
stream  to  its  source. 

Meanwhile  the  expected  horses  had  returned ; 
and  at  eight  o'clock,  with  no  supper  but  some  meat 
and  bread  we  had  brought  in  a  basket  from  Or- 
geief,  we  resumed  our  journey. 

Again  a  cool,  dewy  evening,  and  the  harvest 
moon  undimmed  by  a  cloud.  We  went  on  without 
incident  and  reached  the  next  station  a  little  before 
ten  o'clock,  meaning  to  spend  the  night ;  but  there 
was  no  inn,  and  the  post-house  had  only  hard 
benches  and  black  bread  to  offer  us,  so  we  resolved 
to  prolong  our  ride  to  Belzi,  the  largest  town  that 
remained  between  us  and  the  frontier.  At  eleven 
o'clock  we  were  off  with  a  fresh  team,  and  a  driver 
wrapped  in  sheep-skins  against  the  night  air.     At 


302  KICHINEFF  TO  BELZL 

that  hour  the  country  was  still,  and  seemed  almost 
uninhabited.  There  were  neither  herds  nor  trav- 
ellers to  obstruct  the  road,  and  it  was  not  long  after 
midnight  when  we  reached  Belzi  and  alighted  at 
the  door  of  its  Armenian  inn.  Disrobing  at  night 
does  not  seem  to  be  the  fashion  in  Bessarabia.  We 
found  the  people  asleep,  but  in  their  usual  dress, 
and  ready,  as  soon  as  they  were  waked,  to  serve 
us.  There  was  a  hospitality  in  their  greeting  very 
grateful  to  tired,  chilled,  belated  comers.  In  a  lit- 
tle while  they  gave  us  tea,  and  made  up  clean  beds 
for  us  on  their  straw-cushioned  sofas,  where,  oblivi- 
ous of  dogs  and  all  other  disturbances,  we  slept 
Boundly  till  late  the  next  morning. 


THE  FRONTIER. 


THE  FRONTIER 


O  the  glorious  purple  line 

Of  the  mountains  lifted  along  the  west  t 
Bright,  in  the  sun,  their  summits  shine ; 

Dark,  in  the  shade,  their  valleys  rest. 
Cossack  and  Tartar  may  hold  the  plains, 

And  the  rivers  that  creep  to  a  tideless  sea; 
Mine  be  the  heights  where  the  eagle  reigns, 

And  cataracts  thunder,  and  winds  blow  free  I 

Not  for  the  steppe,  with  its  desert  sheen, 

From  Austria's  border  to  China's  wall, 
Would  I  give  the  upland  pasture's  green  — 

The  beech-tree's  shadow  —  the  brooklet's  fall. 
Vanish,  O  weary,  mournful  Level ! 

Welcome,  O  Wind   my  brow  that  fansl 
In  the  splendor  of  earth  again  I  revel, 

Greeting  the  purple  Carpathians  1 

YTTE  let  Belzi  take  its  own  time.     It  was  ten 
o'clock  when  we   left  the  inn,  our  lunch- 
basket  filled  with  meat  and  bread  against  the  exi- 
20 


306  THE  FRONTIER. 

gencies  of  the  day.  Belzi  lies  in  a  low  plain  sur- 
rounded by  hills,  and  is  like  Kichineff  in  appearance, 
only  smaller  and  poorer. 

Still  a  rolling  country  with  corn,  and  hay,  and 
cattle.  At  one  place  we  counted  nearly  a  hundred 
cows  feeding  together  by  the  road-side.  All  day 
the  monumental  mounds  were  seen  lying  along  the 
horizon,  to  the  south.  Most  of  the  people  we  met 
appeared  to  be  of  Tartar  race,  and  the  women, 
though  always  with  uncovered  faces,  seemed  shy 
and  timid.  At  one  place,  where  we  waited  for 
horses,  we  saw  several  at  work  with  flax  which  lay, 
as  about  most  of  the  houses,  in  bundles  upon  the 
roof,  and  on  the  grass,  near  at  hand.  Standing  at 
a  little  distance,  we  watched  them  with  interest; 
but  as  soon  as  they  saw  they  were  observed,  they 
fled  into  the  house,  and  immediately  two  men  came 
out,  attended  by  a  huge  dog,  and  confronted  us 
with  angry  looks  and  warning  gestures,  so  that  we 
were  glad  when  the  carriage  came  to  take  us  from 
their  disagreeable  neighborhood. 

Now  and  then  we  passed  stubble  fields  where 
wheat  had  grown.  The  corn  raised  here  is  little 
exported,  but,  ground  into  coarse  meal  and  cooked 
as  porridge,  it  is  a  staple  article  of  food  for  the 
inhabitants. 


7?i    - 


PEASANT  OF  THE  POLISH   BORDER 


THE  FRONTIER.  307 

As  we  journeyed  north  the  air  became  percepti- 
bly cooler.  The  country  was  more  broken,  and  in 
the  hollows  of  the  hills  were  little  lakes  that  gave 
variety  to  the  landscape.  In  the  afternoon,  at  a 
lonely  post-station,  we  waited  again  for  horses,  and, 
to  pass  the  time,  walked  back  to  the  stable-yard. 
It  was  surrounded  by  a  high  fence,  a  kind  of  stock- 
ade. Surly  dogs  followed  the  grooms  about,  and 
the  entire  establishment  had  a  dreary,  prison-like 
appearance.  The  apartments  of  the  keeper  are 
always  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  looking  upon  the 
yard.  The  doors  were  open,  and  as  we  went  by 
we  saw  the  two  forlorn  rooms  where  eight  or  ten 
people  had  their  abode.  In  one  a  small  fire  of 
brushwood  burned  in  the  chimney  with  a  pot  hang- 
ing over  it  in  which  porridge  was  cooking ;  while  a 
baby,  rolled  in  a  bit  of  brown  flannel,  —  a  bright- 
eyed  little  thing  crowing  at  the  flame,  —  lay  on  a 
cushion  near  by.  A  pile  of  bedding  and  clothing 
in  one  corner,  two  or  three  rough  benches,  a  few 
wooden  dishes  and  a  tea  urn  made  up  the  furniture. 

Seeking  for  something  more  agreeable  than  this 
barren  place,  we  went  a  little  way  up  the  road  to 
where  a  field  of  Indian  corn  rustled  in  the  wind, 
and  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  pluck  an 


308  THE  FRONTIER. 

ear  and  taste  the  sweet,  yellow  kernels  so  suggest- 
ive of  home.  Truly,  beauty  is  everywhere,  even 
under  the  shadow  of  a  Bessarabian  post-house. 
Growing  on  the  edge  of  the  corn-field  were  clusters 
of  golden  immortelles,  and  delicate  purple  flowers 
which  I  had  never  seen  elsewhere. 

There  was  no  large  village  with  an  inn  where 
we  could  comfortably  spend  the  night,  so  again  we 
rode  until  a  late  hour,  and  then  halted  at  a  station 
whose  hard,  leather-covered  benches  made  sitting 
up  or  walking  about  preferable  to  lying  down.  We 
were  off  with  the  dawn,  having  first,  outside  the 
door,  washed  our  faces  after  the  Oriental  manner, 
with  water  poured  from  a  dipper  into  the  hands. 

The  morning  was  cool  and  clear  like  those  of 
New  England  in  late  September,  and  we  soon 
accomplished  the  fifteen  miles  to  the  next  station. 
There  an  old  woman,  wrapped  in  a  sheep-skin  coat, 
admitted  us  and  furnished  us  with  an  urn  for  mak- 
ing tea  and  a  small  bowl  in  which  to  drink  it,  and 
with  much  merriment  we  breakfasted  upon  what 
remained  of  the  lunch  we  had  brought  from  Belzi. 
Just  as  we  drove  away  from  the  house  we  saw, 
by  the  side  of  the  road,  a  wagoner  who  was  making 
a  pudding  of  corn  meal  in  an  iron  pot,  over  a  fire 


THE  FRONTIER.  309 

kindled  on  the  ground.  His  cart  was  close  at 
hand  and  beyond  it  his  oxen  were  feeding.  Hav- 
ing made  his  pudding  very  stiff,  he  poured  it  out 
into  a  cloth  spread  on  the  grass  and  tied  it  up 
for  carrying.  Then  with  his  wooden  spoon  he 
scraped  the  pot,  eating  the  morsels,  and  was  still 
intent  upon  it  when  a  turn  in  the  road  hid  him 
from  our  view. 

Through  this  region,  most  of  the  houses  were 
thatched,  and  great  herds  of  sheep  and  cattle  were 
common  ;  but  it  was  soon  evident  that  we  were 
coming  into  a  more  populous  country,  and  among  a 
different  people.  "We  passed  numerous  carts  filled 
with  grain  and  vegetables  and  melons,  sometimes 
driven  by  men,  sometimes  by  women.  Companies 
of  three  or  four  were  walking,  carrying  fowls  under 
their  arms,  or  having  a  bag  of  striped  cloth  over 
their  shoulders,  containing  something  to  sell.  The 
dress  of  the  women  was  a  long-sleeved  garment  of 
coarse  white  linen,  reaching  just  below  the  knees. 
It  was  quite  open  at  the  neck,  and  about  the  hems 
and  bands  there  was  an  ornamental  stitch  of  colored 
worsteds.  Instead  of  a  petticoat,  a  striped  woolen 
blanket,  perhaps  two  yards  in  length  and  half  as 
much    in   breadth,   was  folded   round   the   figure, 


310  THE  FRONTIER. 

beginning  under  the  right  arm  and  ending  under 
the  left  —  a  single  thickness  at  the  back,  and 
double  in  front.  A  sash  or  belt  of  ornamented 
leather  confined  it  at  the  waist,  and  the  outer 
lower  corner,  with  careless  grace,  was  caught  up 
to  the  belt  again.  On  the  head  was  a  high  cov- 
ering  of  white  linen,  somewhat  resembling  that 
worn  by  the  women  of  Bethlehem,  and  eai'rings 
and  a  necklace  of  beads  or  coins  completed  the 
attire.  With  their  bare,  brown,  well-shaped  legs 
and  feet ;  their  white  teeth,  bright  eyes,  free 
motions,  and  neat,  effective  dress,  they  made  very 
pleasing,  picturesque  groups.  The  men,  clad  in 
homespun  linen,  and  perhaps  with  a  sheep-skin 
jacket  over  the  blouse,  were  as  tidy  as  the  women. 
These  were  the  Moldavians  of  the  border. 

The  country  became  more  broken  and  wooded  ; 
the  peasant  travellers  more  numerous  ;  and  lo  I  we 
were  at  Novoselitza  and  the  Frontier ! 

The  unusual  stir  among  the  inhabitants  was  soon 
explained.  It  was  fair  and  market-day  in  the  town, 
and  several  thousand  people  were  assembled  on  the 
green.  Making  our  way  through  their  midst,  we 
alighted  at  the  hotel.  It  was  an  ill-constructed, 
unfurnished  building,  but  after  the  small,  comfortless 


THE  FRONTIER.  311 

post-houses  with  their  wretched  fare,  its  high  sunny- 
rooms  were  palatial,  and  we  thought  its  rusks  and 
coffee  delicious,  although  they  did  bring  us  the 
boiled  milk  in  an  iron  kettle  and  set  it  on  the  floor 
beside  the  table. 

While  our  passports  were  being  copied  we  walked 
out  to  see  the  fair.  The  majority  of  the  people 
were  the  same  in  dress  and  appearance  as  those  we 
had  passed  on  the  way.  Piled  up  on  the  ground, 
or  exposed  in  booths  and  on  benches,  were  vegeta- 
bles, melons,  butter  and  curds,  pottery,  wooden 
dishes,  rock  salt,  linen  and  woolen  cloths  of  home 
weaving,  colored  yarns,  beads,  belts,  sashes,  and 
whatever  else  was  produced  or  required  by  this 
primitive  people.  All  seemed  good-humored  over 
their  traffic,  and  it  was  evident  that  many  a  flirta- 
tion was  going  on  among  the  young  men  and  mai- 
dens whose  eyes  and  costumes  had  perhaps  come 
down  to  them  from  the  ancient  Dacians. 

The  last  arrangements  were  completed ;  our 
passports  were  returned  to  us ;  the  courier  an- 
nounced that  all  was  in  readiness  for  our  depart- 
ure. Half  glad  and  half  sorry,  we  took  the  car- 
riage once  more,  and,  crossing  the  barriers  between 
the  guard-houses  of  the  two  nations,  entered  Galicia 
and  Austria. 


312  THE  FRONTIER. 

A  charming  ride  across  the  Bukovina  —  the 
"Beech  country"  —  with  the  Carpathians  in  sight 
to  the  southwest  (how  enchanting  was  their  wavy 
line  after  the  long  level  of  the  steppes  !)  ;  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Pruth ;  the  ascent  of  the  hill  to  pictu- 
resque Czernowitz,  whose  Latin  crosses  glittered  in 
the  sun ;  and  at  the  door  of  the  "  Hotel  Adler  " 
we  stepped  from  the  vehicle  which  had  conveyed 
us  so  far,  and  dismissing  the  driver,  bid  a  last  fare- 
well to  Russia. 


THE   CZAR 


THE   CZAR. 


Now  who  is  he  with  lofty  mien 

That  down  the  street  doth  ride?  — 

Nor  bugle's  note,  nor  banner's  sheen, 
To  tell  of  power  or  pride. 

His  brow  no  kingly  crown  displays; 

His  breast  no  jeweled  star ; 
Yet  Russ  and  Tartar  reverent  gaze  — 

The  Czar  1  God  save  the  Czar  1 

FT  was  at  Yalta  that,  for  the  first  time  in  his  own 
dominions,  we  saw  the  Czar — a  man  whose 
stately  beauty  would  make  him  anywhere  a  mark 
for  admiration,  and  whose  noble  career  as  Emperor 
entitles  him  to  the  world's  regard.  In  his  appear- 
ance there  is  nothing  of  the  fierce  assumption  of 
superiority  which  belongs  to  his  uncle,  the  sove- 
reign of  Prussia,  nor  yet  of  the  unbending  hauteur 
by  which  all  the  portraits  of  the  Emperor  Nicholas 
are  characterized ;    but  rather   dignity  allied  to  a 


316  THE   CZAR. 

tender  earnestness  which  becomes  him  as  the  Father 
of  his  People. 

Think  of  his  position  !  A  monarch  with  almost 
irresponsible  power  over  seventy  millions  of  men  ; 
whose  words  echo  as  law  from  the  Frozen  Cape  to 
Mount  Ararat,  and  from  the  Carpathians  to  the  Sea 
of  Japan  ;  and  on  whose  individual  will,  more  than 
on  that  of  any  other  man,  hang  the  destinies  of 
the  race. 

With  the  clear  thought  and  steady  purpose  of  his 
German  blood,  and  the  faith  which  inheres  in  the 
Slavonic,  he  applied  himself  to  his  tasks.  Doubt- 
less during  the  dark  days  of  the  Crimean  war  the 
pain  and  peril  of  Russia  had  sunk  into  his  heart, 
and  when  he  came  to  rule  over  the  waiting  millions 
it  was  with  sympathy  for  their  trials,  with  apprecia- 
tion of  their  needs  and  difficulties,  and  with  the 
resolve,  God  helping  him,  to  lighten  their  burdens. 
He  knew  the  time  was  ripe  for  the  victories  of 
peace,  and  that  the  age  demands  kingliness  of  kings. 
The  Empress,  of  the  Ducal  House  of  Hesse-Darm- 
stadt, with  an  exalted  standard  for  the  court  and 
the  nation,  was  his  unfailing  support  and  adviser. 
He  gathered  about  him  the  ablest  men  of  the  land, 
and  consulted  with  them  as  to  the  great  measure  he 


THE  CZAR.  317 

proposed  —  the  Freedom  of  the  Serfs.  A  thousand 
obstacles  intervened  through  the  bitter  opposition 
of  a  part  of  the  aristocracy,  but  quietly  and  firmly 
ne  met  and  overcame  them.  Five  years  after  his 
accession  he  proclaimed  the  Act  of  Emancipation  — 
glorious  deed  which  converted  thirty  millions  of 
chattels  into  men  !  And  each  one  of  them  received 
it  as  joyfully  and  as  personally  as  if  he  had  taken 
him  by  the  hand  and  said,  "  To  you,  Ivan,"  or  "  To 
you,  Fedor,  I  give  the  right  to  be  your  own  lord 
and  master ;  to  marry,  to  possess  land,  to  trade, 
and  to  come  and  go  as  may  suit  your  interest  and 
desire."  Thus  he  has  intensified,  a  hundredfold, 
the  instinctive  worship  of  the  Russian  for  his  Czar ; 
he  has  given  to  each  peasant  the  devotion  of  a 
Komisaroff;  and  made  the  new  hope  and  courage 
and  manhood  he  has  inspired  the  surest  foundation 
for  his  throne  in  peace,  and  its  mightiest  bulwark 
in  war. 

To  this  event  succeeded  others  only  less  impor- 
tant. Desirable  changes  were  initiated  in  ecclesias- 
tical matters.  Foundations  were  laid  for  a  system 
of  universal  education.  Open  courts  with  trials  by 
jury  were  instituted.  Provincial  assemblies  were 
established.     The    bribery  and    corruption    of  the 


318  THE  CZAR. 

civil  service  were  checked,  and  the  petty  espionage 
which  had  often  marked  it  was  discountenanced. 

Everything  has  been  done  to  foster  and  facilitate 
the  trade  of  the  Empire.  Nearly  ten  thousand 
miles  of  railway  have  been  finished  or  are  now 
building,  carrying  life  and  progress  into  remote 
districts ;  bringing  the  mines  and  the  grain  regions 
near  to  the  great  marts ;  and  binding  together  the 
different  governments  with  the  strong  bond  of  com- 
mon interests. 

Travelling  through  an  unexplored  country,  the 
pioneer  must  clear  his  way  as  he  proceeds.  He 
cannot  always  choose  at  once  the  most  desirable 
path,  because  he  must  fell  the  trees  in  order  to  see 
what  lies  beyond ;  he  must  ford  the  streams  to  tell 
where  it  is  safest  to  cross ;  he  must  climb  the  hills 
to  learn  which  summit  slopes  gentlest  to  the  farther 
plain.  So  the  Czar,  with  such  untried  forces  to 
measure  and  control,  such  impediments  to  remove, 
and  such  diverse  and  jarring  interests  to  consult, 
must  often  have  walked  in  uncertainty,  and  found 
deviations  and  apparent  retrogressions  inevitable. 
But  "  Forward  ! "  is  blazoned  on  his  banner,  and 
those  who  understand  him  best  know  that  difficul- 
ties only  incite  him  to  fresh  endeavors. 


. 


A  I  - 1 :  X  A  N  D I :  I C   II. 


THE  CZAR.  319 

One  of  the  most  impressive  services  of  the  Rus- 
sian Church  is  that  where  the  priest,  followed  by 
his  deacons  and  readers,  all  in  gorgeous  robes, 
issues  from  the  royal  doors,  and,  advancing  to  the 
centre  of  the  church,  intones  a  solemn  prayer  for 
the  safety  and  well-being  of  the  Emperor,  while  the 
choir  take  up  the  last  words  and  chant  them  to  a 
noble  strain.  Let  every  soul  throughout  his  do- 
minions echo  that  prayer  —  the  Muscovite  of  vary- 
ing Faith  ;  the  Tartar  in  his  mosque ;  the  Georgian 
under  the  shadow  of  Kasbek  ;  the  Kirghiz  and  Kal- 
muck in  their  felt-covered  tents ;  the  Ostiak  and  the 
Samoiede  by  northern  seas  ;  nay,  the  Pole  beneath 
the  glitter  of  the  Latin  cross  —  for,  so  far  as  human 
power  can  avail,  the  safety  of  the  Emperor  means 
security  and  justice  and  progress  for  all. 

Humanity  is  one.  We  also,  of  the  Republic 
over  the  sea,  honor  the  name  and  pray  for  the 
preservation  of  the  Czar  Alexander. 

Hail  to  the  Czar  Alexander! 

Hail  to  the  Prince  of  the  Free  1 
Not  to  the  proud  would  he  pander; 
Truer  and  nobler  and  grander 

Than  Macedon's  hero  is  he, 
Alexander  1 


320  THE   CZAR. 

Listen  I  how  melodies  rural 

Freight  every  wind  with  his  praise  I 
Give  him  the  golden  crown  mural !  — 
First  from  the  seas  to  the  Oural 
Liberty's  flag  to  upraise, 
Alexander  I 

Greatest  is  not  the  Czar  Peter; 

(Sound  it,  O  Bells,  from  each  steeple!) 
No,  for  his  fame  will  be  fleeter; 
No,  for  the  homage  is  sweeter 

Paid  to  the  Czar  of  the  People, 
Alexander ! 

Ah  !  when  the  Muscovite  story 

Ages  to  ages  shall  tell, 
Still  will  the  patriarchs  hoary 
Cry,  "  'twas  the  Czar  of  our  glory, 

He  who  loved  Russians  so  well, 
Alexander  I " 

God  be  his  shield  and  defender ! 

Keep  him  from  sorrow  afar ! 
Then,  when  his  life  he  shall  render, 
Fold  in  eternity's  splendor 

Russia's  redeemer,  the  Czar 
Alexander  I 


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